


Warden

by oddsbodkins



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Found Family, Gen, No beta reader, Prisoner!Tommy, SBI (but only kind of), The Egg Plot, Villain Dream, Warden!Sam, awesamdad, deep breaths everybody, depictions of abuse and manipulation, explicit discussion of suicide, i mean obvs but i still feel i should tag it, moderate gore, phantubbo, season finale au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddsbodkins/pseuds/oddsbodkins
Summary: And when it was all over, when it was done and dusted, there was a Prison. There was a single prisoner as occupant, coming to grips with the end of his world - and a Warden, whose heart was perhaps not so hard, nor blade so dull, as Dream had come to believe.AU where the season finale went differently.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ponk | DropsByPonk & Sam | Awesamdude, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Technoblade & Phil Watson, Tommyinnit & Tubbo
Comments: 300
Kudos: 1412
Collections: Crème de la crème of MCYT fics, MCYT Fic Rec





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a loose continuation of an AU I started in Chapter 4 ("Pale White Horse") of my drabble-containment fic. That chapter is dedicated to Techno and Tubbo, with only an oblique reference to Tommy - but it got me to thinking. I also meant to put this in there, but it's gotten too long. (this chapter was going to be named mellohi :] )
> 
> The _exact_ motivation to write this fic, however, stemmed from [this tweet](https://twitter.com/itsakiiwi/status/1355610316646694916?s=20). Thank you, twitter user [@itsakiiwi](https://twitter.com/itsakiiwi) !

  
Tommy had been in the Prison for a few days at this point.

Sam was present as Dream had dragged him through the portal, bloodied and empty-eyed. The boy hadn’t fought back - hadn’t even spoken. It was so wholly unlike Tommy that Sam’d remained silent throughout the whole procedure, despite the questions that wanted to bubble through.

And Dream - well Dream was always imposing, but there was something so unhinged about him in that moment that it'd made Sam want to be quiet and still, like a mouse hiding in the tall grass as a hawk’s shadow passed by overhead. He didn’t want to catch the man’s attention.

So quiet and still he had remained, the classical neutral guardian, little better than a statue, a golem, as Dream locked the newly appointed prisoner up and departed once more.

It was only far later that night that Tommy had started crying.

It was quiet and pathetic - not the loud sobs of those crying out for attention, or the angry flailing and wailing of the powerless - but the kind of sobs that get wrenched from you when you have nothing left to give. Sam watched it over the security cameras, and felt in the pit of his stomach that something was very wrong.

And it was only the next day that he found out, by way of Bad, what had happened. The demon had whispered to him, eyes blazing with that uncanny red glow and a strangely cheerful smile on his lips, that Tommy and Tubbo had fought their final battle with Dream over the disks - and _lost_. Tubbo had been killed in action, and Tommy had vanished - no-one knew what’d become of him. Here Bad had paused, eyeing him expectantly, but Sam had said nothing.

He was the Warden, and the Prison’s secrets were his to keep.

But Tommy had been here for a few days, at this point, and though Sam appeared a statue, at times, he wasn’t truly made of stone. He had a heart, and he had human curiosity. So, today, he’d decided to engage the boy.

Tommy glanced up as the lava fell away, observing the process dully. He’d taken to sitting beside the bed, staring into the lavafall with his knees drawn up to his chest. As it was he spotted Sam right away, though his expression didn’t change.

Sam walked across the bridge as it appeared, hand on his sword in case Tommy tried to make a break for it - but the boy didn’t move.

“Brought you something different today, instead of the potatoes,” Sam said, setting down the plate he’d been carrying with his other hand. It wasn’t much - just some mushroom stew and a loaf of bread - but the kid had barely been eating anything since his arrival, and Sam wasn’t so hard-hearted as to let him just waste away.

Tommy glanced at the place. “You can keep it,” he muttered.

The words had none of his old fire to them, but at least it was a response. Sam shrugged. “I’m not going to. Eat it, toss it in the fire, do whatever you want - food’s yours now. Oh, and here.” He pulled a book and quill from his sack, and deposited it next to the plate.

Tommy looked at them, and a complicated series of emotions flickered across his face. “Dream send that?” He asked. Sam couldn’t figure out his tone.

“No. I figured you need something to do - since you’re just staring at the lava all day.”

“You can see that?” Tommy raised his eyebrows.

The Warden indicated a camera in the corner. “I can see everything that happens in this prison. Hear it, too.”

“Great. That’s just… great.” Tommy sighed, and scrubbed a hand across his face. Then he paused. “And when Dream visits? You’ll see that too?”

“He may ask me to step away from the cameras - but I informed him when he tasked me with building and guarding the Prison, that everything in here would be under my domain. So yes - I will be watching.”

Tommy blinked at him, then his eyes flickered to the lava again. When the kid didn’t say anything further, Sam shrugged internally and turned to go.

He was halfway back across the bridge when Tommy spoke again. Sam nearly missed it over the pop and hiss of the molten rock.

“Thank you,” he said.

Sam turned after a moment and nodded, then went and flicked the lever to secure the cell once more. The thought of Tommy’s small figure vanishing behind the lava wall stuck with him for a strangely long amount of time, after the fact.

-

Dream came to visit the day after that initial interaction. The demigod, would-be ruler of the server, swept into the entryway like he owned the place - which, he really did, though it all fell under Sam’s control.

“I’d like to see Tommy,” he said as he tapped the welcome desk, voice a veneer of pleasantry. Sam nodded.

“Please deposit your items in Locker One.”

“Ah, yeah, see - I don’t really want to do that.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to, if you want to visit with any prisoner.”

“And what if I just kill you?” So quick it was almost magic, Dream’s enchanted Netherite axe appeared in his hand, blade tucked under Sam’s chin.

Sam gazed back, unimpressed.

“If you kill me the prison will go into lockdown, and you will be eliminated. You are now contained within the system, in accordance with our agreement.”

There was a long, tense moment where Sam thought Dream was really going to take the opportunity to experience the Prison's lockdown procedures firsthand, before the blade withdrew.

“Yeah, ok.” Dream sheathed the axe behind his back and slouched, relaxed and pleasant once more. “Just wanted to see what you’d do. Whatever.”

He went and put his things away, obediently but somewhat impatiently following Sam’s instructions to navigate the prison.

“Am I gonna have to do this _every_ time I come to visit?” He demanded as Sam directed him to set yet another respawn point.

“You seemed pleased when I showed you the Prison initially. Has your opinion changed?” Sam didn’t actually give a damn - this was his Prison and he had their agreement in writing, there was nothing Dream could do to him here - but he maintained what he thought of as his Customer Service voice.

“No, it’s still perfect, I just… didn’t think any of those countermeasures would be for _me_ , y’know.” Dream chuckled. “Like, I _commissioned_ this place - surely I can get a Fast Pass, or something.”

“Any manufactured gap in security measures for one person can lead to a breach in security measures for all - “

“Fine, yes, ok,” Dream cut him off, waving his hand dismissively. “I get it. The perfect prison, so on and so on. Are we nearly there yet?”

“The final portion will begin shortly,” Sam said, as they waited for the lava to disappear.

Then into the silence - against his better judgement - he murmured, “You seem eager.”

Dream responded to the shift in tone - Sam could’ve sworn the man had a sixth sense for any display of weakness in his proximity - and turned to him. His mask was shadowed in the low light. Sam could just make out a hairline fracture, where a recent fight must’ve cracked it.

“So what if I am?” He asked, voice also soft - but in a dangerous, lethal kind of way.

Sam shrugged and didn’t reply. It was the only way to get Dream’s interest to fade, just not engage him. Surely enough, after a moment Dream turned back to the lava. _Surprisingly_ enough, though, he deigned to respond.

“I’ve just finally won, y’know? I guess, yeah, I am kind of jittery. See, when I dropped Tommy off here, he was still in shock after everything. But now he’s had some time to process, for his defeat to really settle in. I’ve _won_ , Sam.” Dream’s fists clenched, and he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. He sounded happy - happier than Sam had heard him in a long while. “And now I can finally reclaim the rest of the SMP.”

Sam didn’t say anything - didn’t shudder, even as the urge to do so crawled up his shoulders.

The lava finally fell away, and the bridge began to crank its way forward, as Dream and TommyInnit finally made eye contact.

Tommy was sprawled out on his bed, leisurely writing in his journal, looking wholly at ease in his surroundings. It was not how he’d looked when Sam had checked the cameras not an hour before, and it was clearly not what Dream had been expecting.

The hunter stopped bouncing, and his fingers flexed, as if itching to reach for an axe that was no longer there.

The bridge cranked to a halt, and Tommy _smiled_.

“Dream!” He called, tossing the book beside him and sitting up. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d come by.”

“Tommy.” Dream leaned up against the barrier as Sam set about lowering the lava once again. Sam could see Tommy’s hand convulse in the blanket atop the bed, but his smile didn’t waver.

The lava ensconced them, and Sam went to his security camera monitor to watch as the barrier dropped. Dream was making a show of looking around. “Quite the digs you’ve got, here. All the obsidian suits you - finally, something you can’t blow up, right?” Dream laughed again. This time Sam _did_ allow himself to shudder at the noise - now that nobody else could see.

“What a funny joke, Dream. You always did know just what to say in order to be a complete dick.” Tommy’s smile had turned more into a gritting of teeth. Dream sauntered closer.

“What’s your plan today, Tommy? Gonna try and suck up to me, convince me you’ve changed your mind? Maybe see if you can’t use me to distract Sam, stage an escape? Or maybe - “ He reached Tommy and leaned close, as if sharing a secret. Sam normally wouldn’t have been able to pick up what he said next - were this not the Prison.

“Or maybe,” Dream murmured, “You’re gonna try and piss me off so bad that I’ll finally take your last life, and you can be with your _Tubbo_ again.”

Tommy didn’t immediately reply, staring fixedly past, and Dream turned his attention to the book lying next to him.

“So what’ve we got here? Penning your memoir?” He made as if to pick the book up, and Tommy -

Tommy surged upwards from the bed, tackling Dream around the middle, and sent the both of them flying into the lava.

**[ _TommyInnit_ tried to swim in lava. ]**

**[ _Dream_ tried to swim in lava to escape _TommyInnit_. ]**

-

If Tommy’s intention had been to piss off Dream, as Dream had postulated, then the kid had managed it - Dream was spitting mad when Sam went and collected him from the respawn point.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” The hunter was pacing around the obsidian like a caged wolf, fists clenching and unclenching for lack of a better outlet. “Where the _fuck_ does he get off - Christ, I’m gonna beat the shit out of him for that little fucking stunt, holy hell. And here I thought he finally _understood_ \- stuck him in the most _impenetrable_ prison in the _world_ , and the futility of his situation _still_ hasn’t made it through that dense fucking head - “

Sam walked up, and Dream paused in his manic movements, staring at him.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” He demanded, gesturing to the obsidian wall. “Get me out of here. Tommy and I need to have a… a _talk_.”

“Visiting hours are over, I’m afraid,” Sam eventually said. He didn’t quite know why he said it, only felt the rightness of it even as Dream stilled completely.

“I’m sorry, _what_?” He laughed. It was not a nice laugh. “You’re joking, right? What an awful fucking joke, at that - I spent like a half hour getting through all your contraptions, and you’re going to try and make me leave after _five minutes_? No way.”

“It’s not _try_ and make you leave - your presence is no longer welcome in the Prison. You may come back and visit another day.”

The only sound was Dream’s harsh breathing. There was nothing he could do - he was trapped in the Prison just as thoroughly as Tommy was, with no pickaxe and mining fatigue, and they both knew it.

Sam could practically feel the weight of Dream’s eyes boring through him.

“You’re not taking his side, are you? That would be a very bad choice.” Somehow, even with the balance of the situation wholly in Sam's favor, Dream’s tone now felt more dangerous than when the man had been holding an axe to his neck.

Sam leaned heavily on his dead fish-eyed Creeper stare. “I’m a Warden, Dream. I’m acting _as_ Warden. Surely you can understand.”

There was a long moment, interminable and fragile - then Dream huffed a laugh and relaxed. “You’re lucky I’ve known you so long, or I’d be awfully suspicious of you right now.”

Sam said nothing in return, but hefted his pickaxe and set about breaking the obsidian.

“By the way, Sam?” Dream said, moving away and leaning against the wall as the Warden got to work. “About that book - I know you must’ve given it to him, though I don’t know why - and I don’t really care,” he raised his hand as if to forestall an explanation that Sam hadn’t particularly been rushing to give. “Just don’t give him anything else. I’ll be burning it, next time I visit.”

Sam clenched his jaw and kept swinging.

-

Later that day, after Dream had left to vent that still-simmering rage _elsewhere_ , Sam went back to see Tommy. The boy was sitting on the floor again, dozing against the wall - but his eyes flew open and he rocketed to his feet at the first noise of the bridge moving. He sagged against the bed when he saw that it was only Sam.

“I thought - well, when the two of you didn’t come back right away I’d hoped that he’d just left, but I didn’t quite know,” he stuttered, as if explaining himself. His nervousness unsettled Sam, beneath his Warden persona. The Warden didn’t let it show.

“He won’t be coming back today. I can’t tell you the next time he intends to return, though.” He didn’t know why he was telling the kid this - didn’t know why he’d even come back to the cell in the first place. The heat of the lava was stifling.

Tommy nodded, then glanced up. “Did he mention the book?”

Sam frowned. “He did, actually. Said he’s going to burn it.”

The kid scowled, expression bitter and ugly. “Of course he did.”

Then, to Sam’s surprise and discomfort, Tommy sniffed and rubbed at his eyes as a few tears got loose.

“Fucking hate him. Hate him so goddamn much,” Tommy muttered. He looked more like a child than Sam’d ever seen him, and for once, the Warden had no idea what to do. He felt some impulse to place his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, maybe even pull him into a hug - but knew the action would be awkward and wholly unwelcome.

He watched, instead - which was really no less awkward and unwelcome, but what else was there to do - and said the first thing that came to his head: “Want me to take it for you?”

It surprised Tommy enough to break him out of his crying - he sniffed again, wiping the tear tracks off his face with a grimy sleeve. “What’d you say?”

“I asked if you want me to take it for you. The book, that is. I can keep it safe.”

“Oh.” Tommy frowned, glancing between the book and him. “I mean, yeah - it’s uh, it’s not quite done yet, but I guess - would you actually do that for me? I mean - if Dream asks, you’ve got to give it to him, don't you?”

“While we are in the walls of the Prison,” Sam said slowly, weighing the words so that Tommy might really believe them, “There is not a soul nor a power on Earth that can make me do anything I don’t want to do. I swear to you, Tommy, that if you give me the book it will be kept safe and untouched. Even from Dream.”

“Oh,” Tommy said again, this time a little smaller, a little more uncertain. It looked like he was afraid to hope. Sam’s heart seized.

Sam could see why Dream was so afraid of Tommy, and attachments - because Sam could feel one forming right now, and it would be bad news for Dream if it became fully realized.

“You won’t read it, right? It’s very private - and like I said, I haven’t had the time to finish it.” Tommy picked up the book and held it to his chest, looking torn.

“On my honor as Warden,” was all Sam had to offer, and that seemed to be good enough. Tommy nodded seriously and passed the book to him, and Sam tucked it away in his bag.

This time, he knew why Tommy’s curled-up figure stayed in his mind’s eye for hours after the lava had enveloped his cell once more - knew, and wondered just what he was going to do about it.

-

True to form, Dream visited the next day - and despite his angry questions and rough search of Tommy’s cell, could find no book. Tommy insisted to the heavens above that he’d thrown it away, burned it, and Sam said nothing when the interrogation turned his way, so Dream had no choice but to believe the child.

When Dream instead asked he'd been writing, Tommy had merely widened his eyes and replied mockingly, “Oh, just the secret to resurrecting people. Wasn’t that what you were saying you had, Dream? Some big secret to bringing Tubbo back, that Schlatt gave you when he died? Yeah, I can write bullshit too, thanks.”

Silence. Tommy snorted in response to some shift in body language that only he knew Dream well enough to perceive, and the hunter turned and left without a word.

But he came back the next day. And the next. And Sam watched as Tommy got even more worn down, as his spirit was drained, and wondered just how long the kid would manage to hold out. Surely not as long as Dream could keep this up - the man was singularly dedicated, and Tommy had nowhere left to escape to, no more cards tucked up his sleeve.

Sam kept his promise, though. The book got a dedicated slot in Sam’s ender chest, safe even in death, and Dream remained none the wiser.

-

A respite came in the form of not any significant action on Sam’s part, but a passing comment in the stream of chatter Dream always spewed during the lockdown procedures.

“We’ve got this whole Egg mess now, of course, so I’ll have to deal with that - may take a trip this week to go pick up some more Totems, you know, just do a treasure haul - can’t exactly have Bad ruining my server now that Tommy’s out of the way,” he punctuated with a chuckle.

Sam didn't typically respond to these monologues, so he didn't comment - but as he’s escorting Dream away later that evening, leaving an unresponsive and shaking Tommy behind, he said neutrally and easily, “Shall I expect you tomorrow? I may be away.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier? I probably won’t be by for the next week at _least_ \- between the gearing up and the fighting that I’m expecting to break out.”

“Alright. I will be seeing you, then.” Sam nodded, and Dream threw him a dismissive salute as he stepped out into the bright sunlight. Sam stared at his dwindling silhouette until the doors were shut once more.

Then he went to his ender chest, pulled out a book, and moved through the tunnels in the prison that only he knew about, until he was standing before a cell once more, watching the lava drained away.

Tommy was used to the procedure enough by now that he didn't flinch as the bridge moved, only watched with interest. Sam thought distantly that Dream would probably, eventually, exploit that - luring Tommy into a false sense of security with this pseudo-schedule they’ve set up of only one visit per day. He wondered what he himself would do, if Dream ever came back for a second go-round. What he might say.

“Why do you do this?” was what Tommy greeted him with, as the bridge clicked into place - not so much accusation in his tone as genuine curiosity. Sam thought the accusation might be easier to handle.

“Dream and I have a contract,” Sam replied. He stepped off the bridge and set down today’s meal: steak and some roasted carrots. “He came to me months ago, offering me the opportunity to exercise my abilities on a scale I’d never been able to before. In exchange I had to guarantee him the use of this place’s facilities.”

“Couldn’t you just not let him in? If you really wanted to?”

Sam considered that. “I might,” he said slowly. “But it’s a matter of legality, and of honor. I am bound to him.”

Tommy grimaced, but nodded. “About what I expected,” he shrugged, and stood to collect his plate. The lava finished falling behind Sam, and the barrier dropped.

“Aren't you going to ask me to defy Dream?” Sam asked with a kind of morbid curiosity.

Tommy snorted. “I know a losing cause when I see one, Sam. Fought on the side of one all my life, in some form or another. I wasn’t even going to bother with asking you to free me or anything - just wondered why you put up with him, is all.” He took a bite of the carrots and raised his eyebrows. “Hey, this is pretty good! You’re getting better at cooking - it’s hardly even burnt this time.”

Sam’s lips twitched, and Tommy choked. “You laughed!” He sputtered, when the bit of carrot finally cleared his airway. “I didn’t know you could _do_ that!”

“I did no such thing,” Sam said quellingly, and to distract the boy, reached into his bag and pulled out the book. Tommy stilled and tracked the movement with his eyes, hardly seeming to breathe.

Sam wondered, certainly not for the first time, just what Tommy had written in it.

“Dream says he won’t be back for at least a week, so I thought it safe to return this to you. If he attempts to make a surprise visit tomorrow, I will be able to stall for enough time to recollect and hide the book, so you need not worry.” 

Sam placed the book on the ground and stepped away, careful as always to maintain some distance between himself and Tommy.

Tommy stood, also oh so careful, and scooped the book up. He held it gently. His hands were shaking. “Alright,” he said, then seemed to come back to himself a bit. “Alright,” he said again, looking at Sam. “That’s good. That’s… that’s very good. Um, thank you.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s yours, after all. Nothing to thank me for.”

“Right, right. And you didn’t, um, read it? Or anything?”

“I promise that I did not.”

“Ok. Thank you again. And please,” Tommy held up a hand as Sam began to respond, “Don’t tell me not to say that. Just… don’t.”

There was stifling silence in the cell.

“Alright.” Sam looked at the kid sitting on the bed, and couldn’t really take it anymore. He reactivated the barrier as Tommy settled back down with his newly acquired items. “Goodnight, Tommy,” he offered in parting, as he reactivated the bridge.

“Goodnight, Sam.”

Sam didn't look back as the lava descended around Tommy, this time - he didn't want to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't want to start any other works, i say, as i post the newest chapter of meritocracy only a couple of hours ago. i have too much already on my plate, and i'm struggling with my WIPs.
> 
> i then _immediately_ enter a fugue state and write 4k words of au sam tommy angst, punctuated by watching Sam Nook clips.
> 
> suffering.
> 
> anyways, hope this lands :thumbsup:


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for explicit discussion of suicide

It was that night that Tommy also began talking to him, via the cameras.

That was somewhat expected, to be honest - one thing that Tommy and Dream had in common was that they loved to talk, and now that Tommy knew somebody was _maybe_ listening at whatever point, it afforded him the opportunity to conduct a pseudo-conversation.

The topic of discussion tended to vary, flowing from one subject to another with little apparent rhyme or reason to the progression. Sometimes Tommy would ramble for hours about women and how skilled he was at talking to them - making his age very obvious in the process, and how little romantic interaction he’d truly had. Sometimes he would talk about L’Manberg, sharing little stories about his fondest memories of the revolution. Sometimes he talked about his family, about Tubbo - the good and the ugly of his relationships with them.

This was how Sam found out about all the fucked-up things that Dream had done to Tommy in exile - knowledge that was about to make his life extremely complicated.

“And yeah, so that time he found out that I’d dug this whole vault to store my stuff in - and let me tell you, that was when he got _really_ angry, oh man. Blew the whole fuckin’ place up - I was dealing with blisters and shit for _weeks_. Had to practically _chug_ golden apples to get rid of the scarring - and Techno _really_ did not like that,” Tommy laughed, “the prick. ‘ _Oh, Tommy, don’t eat my golden apples, have this steak instead_ ’,” he pitched his voice low in a mocking imitation of Technoblade. “Wouldn’t fuckin’ listen to me when I told ‘em I needed the status benefits in case Dream came knocking again. He came to visit a whole bunch while I was living at Techno’s - that was real exciting, I had to drink an invisibility pot 'n hide in this box every time he came ‘round. Still don’t know how he knew - Techno told me it was ‘cause I built that whole tower out front, but I told ‘im, I says, anybody can build a cobblestone tower! No way he knows it’s me! The Blade's like that sometimes, he just gets a thought in his head and decides he’s right and then there’s no discussing with him, it’s just he’s right and you’re wrong and that’s that.”

Tommy sighed. “What a prick,” he said again, but it was less fond this time - more angry. The kid lapsed into silence for a while after that.

Sam couldn’t help but ask about it when he brought by the evening meal.

“Were you telling the truth earlier?” He asked as he watched Tommy tuck in. Roasted chicken today, paired with the baked potatoes he’d already made - not the most creative meal, but he’d been in a hurry.

“Aha! I _knew_ that you were listening,” Tommy said around a mouthful of potato. He swallowed noisily. “Truth about what? About Technoblade? Because yeah, dude’s a real asshole, let me tell you what - “

“No, I meant about Dream,” Sam cut Tommy off impatiently. Tommy stilled, and Sam realized he’d never raised his voice like that before, not in his role as Warden. He took a step back and put his hands where Tommy could see them, and Tommy relaxed - and that in and of itself was telling.

“Yes, that was also the truth. What bit in particular?”

“The - the exploding all your stuff. And hurting you, when he found your vault.”

“Oh, that? Of course! Why would I lie about something like that? Especially,” he cut off a bit of chicken and crammed it in his mouth, “when I don’t even know if you’re listening.”

Sam watched him eat. “You could be trying to set me against Dream,” he said slowly. “Sway me to your side.”

Tommy snorted bitterly. “Yeah, I might try that, if I really thought you’d care.”

Shot to the heart. Sam sighed and turned to leave; there was a clatter of plate and cutlery behind him.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to be mean, it just came out. Please don’t leave.”

Sam turned back, and Tommy was right behind him, hand hovering anxiously over Sam’s elbow but not quite touching. Tommy yanked the hand away when he realized Sam was looking, and backed up until his knees hit the bed and folded.

“Sorry, um,” the kid said, stuttering and nervous again in a way that he hadn’t been since the first time they’d spoken. “Can you just, uh, stay while I eat? I promise I won’t do anything else.”

Sam was blanking out. He very slowly moved to the opposite wall of the cell and took a seat. The obsidian was warm, almost uncomfortably hot, against his back.

Tommy watched him tensely, but seemed to relax when it became apparent Sam wasn’t going to be doing anything else. He began eating again.

“So was it really so awful, then?” Sam asks after a while, into the silence. “In Logstedshire?”

Tommy thought about it and shrugged. “Depends on your definition of awful, I guess. Some of the time it wasn’t so bad. I was outside and everything, and I could do what I wanted when Dream wasn’t around. But nobody ever came to visit, ‘cept for Dream, ’n you know how he is. And you, I guess.”

“What about me?”

“Well you came to visit me, right? At the very beginning of it all. Told me you’d help out, some. That was nice. Other than you, I think only Quackity came by.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Sam shifted. “I meant to visit more, but Dream told me I shouldn’t. He wanted me to work more on the prison, get it done faster. Told me I didn’t need to bother with checking up on you, since he had it handled.”

“Mm. Yeah, found out that he was keeping everybody away after the fact. I will admit,” Tommy stabbed his fork in Sam’s direction for emphasis, “that he did a neat little job there, winding me up like he did. If he hadn’t lost it and blown up everything, I was about a few days from killing myself. So truly, he _is_ a master of his craft.”

“You were going to _kill yourself_?” Sam echoed incredulously.

“Well, yeah.” Tommy frowned and shifted on the bed. “Didn’t you hear Dream, before? I’m on my last life. I just kind of figured that if nobody cared to see me anymore, not even _Tubbo_ , and that was how the rest of my life was going to be… well, it just wasn’t particularly a life I wanted to keep living. So I built this big ol’ tower, and was gonna jump.”

He shrugged again. “Didn’t though, obviously. And now I’m here! Gotta say, not much has changed - and now I can’t even escape by dying, how fucked up is that.”

Sam blinked. He was suddenly very glad that he’d taken a seat for this conversation.

“I am… sorry,” he said eventually. He felt disconnected from his voice - internally, he was still reeling.

Tommy cocked his head to the side. “What’re _you_ sorry for? The chicken? ‘Cause I gotta admit Sam, this isn’t some of your best work.”

“No, the… everything else. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have… I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”

“Oh.” Tommy shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you don’t have to apologize for that - I wasn’t telling you just to make you feel bad.” Then he laughed weakly. “I mean, if you were _really_ sorry, you could just let me out - right?”

Sam didn’t - couldn’t - respond, just tapped a thumb against his thigh. He felt like crying. Tommy watched him. Sam could only imagine what the kid was thinking.

“That was why I was so surprised to see the book again,” Tommy eventually said, apropos of nothing. It broke the pall that had settled over them, and Sam felt like he could breathe again.

“What?” He asked, eloquently.

“The book.” Tommy took another bite of chicken and talked around it. Sam wondered vaguely who’d taught him his table manners - if anybody had ever even bothered. “Honestly, when I gave it to you, I was still kind of 50/50 on you like, burning it, handing it over to Dream at the first opportunity. Y’know. Since you two seemed like friends ’n all.”

“We were friends at one point, but no longer,” Sam corrected. Then his brain caught up. “Wait, you thought I was just going to _burn_ it? _Why?_ I promised I’d keep it safe!”

“Well I dunno! I haven’t exactly had a surplus of trustworthy adults in my life, Mr. _Sam the Warden_ \- Lord knows _Dream_ burnt my shit all the time! I just didn’t know what to expect!” Tommy waved his knife around, then scowled and fumbled as his movement upset the plate in his lap. “I mean, I still kind of don’t,” he muttered while righting the whole mess.

“I’m not going to burn your stuff, Tommy,” Sam said. He was starting to realize that it was important he say these things - he’d just thought it a given. Then he prompted, “Still kind of don’t… what?”

“You’re very _unpredictable_ ,” Tommy dragged each syllable out in the manner of somebody unused to larger words. “ _Perplexing_. _Persnickety_. You _befuddle_ me.”

“I befuddle you,” Sam repeated dryly.

Tommy nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

“And how do I befuddle you?”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, then paused and squinted. “What does befuddle mean, again? _I_ already know, of course, just want to make sure that _you_ do. Y’know, so we’re on the same page ’n all.”

“Befuddle means to - to confuse. You’re saying I confuse you.”

“Ah! Yes!” Tommy pointed at him triumphantly. “You _do_ confuse me.”

“Yes. So _how_ do I confuse you? How am I unpredictable? I should think,” Sam added wryly. “That of all the people you know, I am the _most_ predictable - given the relative chaos of your life.”

“Sure, but you… I dunno. It’s tough to get a bead on you. Sometimes I think you like me - then you’ll just vanish for days, or bring Dream by, and not do anything while he’s… y’know, being his _unpleasant_ self. But then sometimes I think you must dislike me - and let me tell you, Sam, people do tend to dislike me, I’ve been told I’m a very _dislikable_ person - sometimes I think you must dislike me, but then you do something like this.” He gestured at Sam.

“Like this?”

“Sit. Talk. Act like you care.”

Sam nodded and considered that. “As Warden, I’m not supposed to get attached - or feel sympathetic to - my prisoners.”

“Right, right. And you’ve gotta be Warden ‘cause of that, that contract thing.”

Another dead zone in the conversation. Sam listened to the sizzle of lava and the wet noise of Tommy’s chewing.

“Dream must’ve told you, though,” Tommy said eventually. Sam was struck once more by how neither he nor Dream could stand a prolonged silence.

“Told me what?”

“That, that - well, you and Dream are just very similar, is all. He played a similar role by looking after me in Logstedshire, before blowing everything up. He was _nice_ sometimes, you know - it was what made everything so confusing. And I think he knew that, and that’s why he did it. In any case - I guess that’s also why I can’t figure you out, is ‘cause you’re also like, my jailer here, but you’re so _different_ from him. And then he’s been coming around too and talking with me, and it’s just made my brain,” he shook his head as he considered his words, “y’know, all wonky.”

“Wonky,” Sam tested the word out.

“Yeah. Wonky. Jesus, Sam - it’s like you’ve never talked to a normal person before,” Tommy barked a laugh. He’d finished his chicken.

“Do you qualify?” Sam asked dryly. He stood to pick up the plate, motions slow and measured as he entered Tommy’s personal space. The boy’s eyes tracked his movement intently, but a big grin split his face.

"Sam the Warden, was that a _joke_? Did you just make a _joke_ at me?”

“No, it was a genuine question - I find myself truly concerned for your mental stability.”

“Oh.” Tommy wilted a bit. Sam eyed him, then snorted.

“Yes, it was a joke, Tommy.”

“I knew it!” Tommy exploded off the bed, pumping his fists in the air. “I knew you weren’t a lost cause - oh Sam, my friend, we are going to have _such_ a good time together. I am going to teach you _humor_.”

“I would say that I look forward to it, but that would be lying,” Sam said, raising his voice as Tommy lost his shit (“A _second_ joke in a row, the man is on _fire_!”) He reactivated the barrier and prepared to leave.

“Wait - you’re coming back tomorrow, right?” The jubilation had gone out of Tommy’s voice, and Sam glanced at him.

“What? Yeah, I’ll be by. Oh, speaking of which - do you have any food requests? Since you found the chicken… unpalatable.”

“I don’t know what that means, but yeah, uh - can I get something sweet? Like, maybe some berries?” Tommy hunched over in something like a hopeful cringe. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I can do that. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Sam-I-Am!”

As the curtain of lava enveloped the cell once more, Tommy was stretched out on the bed, writing in his book and whistling cheerfully. It was the happiest Sam had seen him since arriving at the prison.

Sam… had a lot to think about.

-

He went hunting for redberries on the outskirts of town, the next day, mainly to satisfy his curiosity about the progress of the blood vines. There were plenty of other places to forage, particularly around his base, but - but Dream didn’t do things without reason, so if he was concerned enough to begin scrounging up Totems of Undying, then Sam could be concerned enough to take a peek outside.

And damn, had he been unaware of the server's happenings.

The Egg had fairly exploded with growth, creeping across town and draining the color from its surroundings. Church Prime was a lone bastion; if the corruption was spreading this quickly, then soon even the prison would need to be concerned with protection.

He was standing on a hill, overlooking it all, when Dream materialized from the brush and joined him.

“Funny to see you finally leave your shell, Warden. It’s been some time.”

“Heya.” Sam shifted his pack to a more secure position on his shoulder, trying to hide his initial nervous flinch. Truth be told, it _had_ been some time since he’d seen Dream outside the safety of the prison. It left him feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“Taking in the view?”

“Something like that.” Sam hesitated. “I hadn’t realized how bad it’d gotten.”

“Oh yeah.” Dream turned to the town, and for a moment it could’ve been the early days of the server again - nothing much built except for the community house, two of them clambering up to the highest points of the surrounding area and sharing their ideas for the future.

Sam took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it’s not going too well,” Dream continued, oblivious to the train of Sam’s thoughts. “I’ll admit that I tried for negotiations with them at first, which was silly of me. Should’ve just blown the damn Egg up straight away - now Bad and Ant are suspicious of my motivations, and I can’t get within a mile of it without them dogging my every move. When they’re not trying to convert me, that is.”

“Convert you? To what?”

“To their weird egg religion, I guess. I dunno, the red in Bad’s outfit turned white, the blue in Ant’s eyes has turned red, so they’ve got _something_ weird going on besides just like, indoctrination.”

“A red Dream,” Sam mused. “Now that would be interesting to see.”

“A _crazy_ red Dream,” Dream corrected. “They’re not sane.”

“I don’t feel like most on this server are very sane, these days.”

Dream’s mask turned towards him. “That’s kinda rich, coming from you.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, yeah. You used to be so straightforward, Sam. So simple. All you wanted to do was build. Now, though - now I can’t quite figure you out.”

“That’s funny; Tommy actually told me the same thing, yesterday.”

“Did he?” Dream shrugged. “Kid’s not entirely dumb, after all. Give him a cookie.”

“Berries, actually,” Sam corrected without thinking - then winced, as Dream seemed to perk up. The relaxed slouch he’d had, so like the old Dream, went away.

“ _Berries_ , you say? Is that why you’re tramping through the woods out here - collecting some _berries_ for our most _favorite_ prisoner?” Dream paused as something seemed to dawn on him. “Sam, you’re not - you’re not getting _soft_ , are you?”

“He’s a growing kid, he needs more than potatoes,” Sam grunted. It was the wrong defense; Dream wheezed.

“You are! You _are_ getting soft. I leave for a week and he’s already got his hooks into your heart - the conniving little rat. What, did he thank you for visiting, or something? Tell you he doesn’t really blame you for imprisoning him - not when the _mean, terrible_ Dream was the one who really put you up to it? Have you been _talking_ to him?”

“Of course I talk to him. I’m the Warden. He’s my only prisoner.”

“No, but I mean _talk_ to him. Has he told you about all his _trauma_ , Sam? The poor, unfortunate course of his life?”

Dream unhooked his axe and idly flipped it around his hand. Sam took an involuntary step back.

“He told me all of that too, you know. He's talked about his exile, right? Told you we used to be friends, while I was the _only_ person to take care of him. Don't say it hasn't come up - I'll start to get jealous."

Sam tracked the arcs of Dream’s axe carefully. “He told me that you kept everybody away - but he didn’t need to tell me that. Don’t you remember? You lied to me. Told me he was doing fine.”

Dream laughed.

“He _was_ doing fine, you idiot. Whatever he told you is bullshit. If he’d _listened_ to me, did what I said, there never would’ve been any problems. But Tommy’s apparently just _incapable_ of following the rules - he’s always got to try and make new ones. It’s in his nature.”

Dream took a step towards Sam. Sam took another step away, and unsheathed his sword, holding it in an uneasy guard.

“Dream, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but there’s no need to…”

“I’m _thinking_ that after this little encounter, I’m never going to see you outside the Prison again. And I’m _thinking_ that you’re _really_ starting to piss me off.”

With little fanfare, Dream lunged in with a brutal overhead strike - which would’ve cut Sam’s ribcage open if he hadn’t been expecting it. He dodged and parried, letting the axe slide down the length of his sword and safely away.

“I know your fighting style,” Sam huffed as they circled each other. “You’re not going to be able to get the jump on me.”

“You’re out of practice, though, _old_ _friend_ ," Dream spat. "All that attention to building and guarding your Prison has left you _weak._ You won’t be able to hold me for long.”

And true enough, as the fight played out, Dream began slipping little hits through Sam’s guard. A nick here, a swing that came too close there. He could feel the sting of open cuts in a dozen different places as he rolled back, out of the way of another one of those wide, wild swings.

“How've you got the stamina for this?” Sam asked. “Practicing fighting’s one thing, but with all this overextending you’re doing, you should’ve dropped by now.”

“I’m not your Dream anymore, idiot,” the hunter rebutted. “You remember me as just some _guy_. Sparring with you, doing those little Manhunts - that was all child’s play. When you’ve got only yourself to rely on, you’ve got to learn how to be _strong_ ,” he grunted as he went for another powerful horizontal swing. Sam wasn’t quick enough to dodge this one, and it left a rent in the back of his armor. He could feel the broken metal start to tear into his skin.

“And _why_ do you have only yourself to rely on? What _happened_?”

That actually got Dream to stop for a second - he full froze as Sam scrambled back, mask impassive. “Tommy happened. I thought you knew that already.”

“But he’s just _Tommy_. He’s just a _kid_ , I don’t understand - “

“He’s _everything_! _He’s_ the whole reason this server fell apart - the reason for Manburg and L’Manberg, for the Revolution, for the Pet Wars - all of it! D’you remember how this place used to be, Sam? It used to be _beautiful -_ idyllic. It used to be _perfect_. And then I let that ungrateful fucking idiot in, and he ruined _everything_.” He unfroze, and punctuated each harsh word with a swing. By the end of the sentence, his axe was buried in the dirt that Sam had just occupied; the Warden had only just managed to roll out of the way.

Dream wrenched the axe out of the ground and went in for one final overhand chop, meant to be a finishing blow; Sam got his sword up and blocked it head-on. The other man had the height advantage, and Sam’s arms trembled as the hunter leaned into the blow.

Then an arrow flew out of the woods and nearly blew Dream’s mask clean off.

Dream stumbled backwards, raising his shield, and Sam's arms collapsed at the sudden lack of opposing force. Two men emerged from the brush.

“Well lookie here! We found ourselves the wily little charlatan - you led us on quite the goose chase, Dream.” It was Bad’s voice but not quite Bad’s face - the red had been leeched out of it, leaving him a figure of black and white. The cheeriness was familiar, but the oozing menace Sam could feel even across the clearing was not.

Ant was the one with the crossbow. He’d already reloaded it and edged towards Sam, sights fixed on Dream and finger on the trigger. When Dream didn’t move, he crouched and helped Sam get upright.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” he murmured as Bad held Dream’s attention, chattering some more. “Used to be that you could trounce Dream in a fair fight, Warden - what happened to that?”

“You’re assuming what was just happening here was a fair fight,” Sam murmured back. “I’m not so sure. Thanks for the help, though.”

He glanced up, and realized that true to Dream’s word, the blue of Ant’s eyes had transformed into red. He flinched, and tried to play it off as simple pain.

“Of course. Come back with us? We’ve got a safe place for you - Dream won’t be able to get you there.”

“Sorry, ‘fraid I can’t. Got a prisoner to attend to.”

Ant’s hand closed around his shoulder. “I really must insist. You’re in no condition to be wandering around alone.”

“And I'm _really_ going to have to decline.” He winced as the grip on his shoulder clenched down with supernatural strength, bending even his Netherite. There was some kind of battle of the gods being waged out here, and he'd been wandering around looking for damn _berries -_ more the idiot he.

“In fact,” he continued, “And again, thanks for the help, but I’ve really got to be going.”

His grasping hand finally collided with his bag, and the suddenly very important and essential item within: his stack of ender pearls. He flung one far and away, and for a moment everybody else in the clearing gaped at him - then seconds later, he gasped with pain as he landed multiple hills over.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, as all the consequences of that confrontation shouted their protestations.

He dragged himself homeward.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two idiots attempt to save each other, with varied results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: mild gore and body horror

Or, that is, he _meant_ to drag himself home - but as he was passing the Prison, realized that he still had a bag full of (now partially-crushed) redberries for Tommy, and the boy was expecting him.

He groaned a little, to himself - but nobody was around to see it, so he could pretend the lapse in discipline never really happened.

As he slumped through the Nether portal that would take him to the proximity of the Prison - the process of entry was complicated, even for him - he could feel the wound on his back trying to close and reopening as the torn metal agitated it. He needed to get it off as soon as possible, but after the debacle of berry-hunting, he’d still take shitty, painful armor over nothing at all.

It was a relief when the dark, imposing walls of the Prison closed around him once more.

He went through the motions of going to see Tommy in a kind of haze, so well-acquainted with performing the security protocols that he didn’t really need to employ his brain. That was good, because his brain was largely occupied with not fainting.

The lava parted and he could see Tommy perk up, tossing his book aside and grinning with an almost sickening lack of fear as he saw only Sam on the other side of the room. The grin faded into an uneasy smile, then a furrowed brow and frown, as Sam staggered onto the bridge.

“Sam, are you alright? It’s kind of difficult to see, but you look…” he trailed off as the bridge cranked closer. “Oh dear. You do not look good, big man.”

“Big man? Is that what I am now? Feelin’ kinda small,” Sam wheezed as the bridge touched against the cell floor. He stumbled off, catching himself on the barrier before sliding slowly down against it.

“No, you’re a big man, Sam, the biggest. Now, can you lower the lava for me? I’d like to help you, but the barrier’s in the way. Sam, can you hear me? I need you to lower the barrier before you pass out, or anything idiotic like that.”

“‘m not an idiot,” Sam slurred. “You always overuse that insult, Dream.”

Tommy inhaled sharply.

“Alright, genius - _please_ lower the barrier, before your _brilliant_ ass bleeds to death not two feet away from me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waved a hand and fumbled with the remote. A click, and the lava began falling. Tommy fidgeted anxiously until the barrier finally dropped, then surged forward to kneel at Sam’s side.

“What _happened_ to you?” He demanded as he helped Sam sit upright, surprisingly keen eyes clearly taking a catalogue of the Warden’s injuries.

“I have had,” Sam paused to spit out a gob of saliva and blood, “ _shit_ taste in friends. Historically.” He emphasized the declaration with a gesture, then groaned as it pulled his back injury.

“Well, nobody’s arguing with that,” Tommy murmured. Then louder, he said, “I’m going to have to move you a bit, to check out your back. Can you do that for me?”

Sam groaned again - honestly, it was more of a whine - but compliantly maneuvered himself around.

The boy tutted behind him, then choked.

“Sam, what the _fuck_ is this?”

“What, the cut? I mean yeah, it felt pretty nasty, but it’s just a - “

“No, _this._ ” There was a strange tugging sensation, almost as if part of his back was being pulled away.

“What the actual fuck,” Tommy repeated quietly. It was the most serious Sam had heard him thus far - frightened, even.

“Tommy, I have to say, your bedside manner is not so good. You’re kinda freakin’ me out.” Sam chuckled wetly. Tommy did not.

“Sorry. There’s a - well, let me try and - “

The tugging sensation increased, and Sam began to ask just what Tommy was doing - only for a scream to rip its way out instead, as the tugging was replaced by blinding pain. He fell back to the floor, head bouncing off the unforgiving stone.

After a second, he came back to himself, and looked up. “Tommy, _what_ did you - “

He cut off when he saw what Tommy was staring at, clenched in the boy’s hand.

It was a blood vine.

It was a bloody blood vine.

Tommy had just been tugging at his back, and now there was a bloody blood vine twisting in his fist.

Sam faced away to vomit as that information processed.

“What _is_ it?” Tommy asked, seeming repulsed yet fascinated.

“Don’t hold it,” Sam said, as soon as he was capable of speech again. “Not good.”

“Well yeah, I could guess that.” Thankfully, Tommy seemed to have reached the limit of his curiosity - he wound up his arm and flung the vine far into the lava lake. Sam could almost swear there was a small, high-pitched scream as the thing writhed and burnt.

There was a moment of silence, then Tommy moved to help Sam once more.

“Alright, shelving that for later - what actually happened? Was it Dream? Certainly not - it wasn’t like, _Technoblade_ or anybody, right? Another _L’Manberg_ -type incident? Or did you just piss somebody off?”

“Well, there’s certainly _something_ going on in town, but yeah, it was Dream.” Sam lifted his arms as Tommy fiddled with the buckles of his armor. The kid grumbled as the bent pieces didn’t pull away like they ought to, which was surprisingly endearing. The chest piece was the most difficult part - a bit of the metal caught and ripped at his wound even as Tommy gently lifted it away, one last little parting gift. He bit down on the pained grunt that wanted to escape.

He wasn’t really in any better physical condition than he’d been when he’d first stumbled away from the fight, but the haze that he’d attributed to that condition seemed to be fading. He was starting to think that it was not the pain but the blood vine that'd so disoriented him - and shuddered to think what might’ve happened if he’d just stumbled home like he’d originally intended.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy muttered, and Sam realized that he’d caught the shudder.

“No, it’s fine,” he rasped back. His voice was going, after the events of the day. He coughed.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” he tried again, and his voice came out a little more whole this time.

Tommy snorted. “I’ll not worry about you once you’re not bleeding out all over my nice obsidian floors. This place isn’t easy to clean, you know.”

“Yeah it is,” Sam closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose as Tommy started removing his tacky undershirt. The dried blood stuck to his open wounds and _pulled_ at them as it was tugged away. “You just gotta run the lava over it.”

“Small problem there, genius: _I_ am also in here, and _I_ am also quite flammable.”

Sam snorted. “Then don’t be here.”

There was a pregnant pause, and he realized what he’d said. He sighed, and Tommy seemed to take that the wrong way.

“Got any healing potions, then?” The boy hurried to fill the gap in the conversation. “Cause I’ve got to say, I’m alright at medical aid in a pinch, but I think this is somewhat beyond my purview.”

Sam nodded. The frenetic, ’oh my God I nearly died’ energy was starting to leave him. He sagged against Tommy’s bed. “Check the bag.”

“Bag, bag… right.” Tommy plucked Sam’s bag up from the ground and began rummaging through it. Sam's security pass, which was really all Tommy needed to get out of the prison, was lying at the very top. The kid tossed it to the side without a second glance, but paused when he saw what was underneath.

“Sam - why've you got have so many berries?” There was a strange catch to Tommy's voice. He was smiling, but his eyes looked sad.

Sam stared back. “For you, of course. You asked for ‘em.”

“Yeah, I asked for _some_. You must’ve got… like, multiple stacks in here.”

Sam shrugged. “Well if you liked them, then I wasn’t just gonna _stop_ giving them to you. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Tommy repeated. He didn’t say it loudly - more like to himself - and Sam didn’t bother asking. His head lolled to the side - the edge of the bed wasn’t _exactly_ comfortable, but it was enough of an improvement over obsidian that he was considering passing out then and there. Tommy glanced over and saw his eyes shut.

“Uh oh. C’mon big man, stick with me now.” He upended the bag in order to more efficiently get to the bottles at the bottom - Sam could tell from the noise of it all. There was the sound of a cork, and then all of a sudden Tommy was in his face again.

“Alright, easy does it. I know, I know,” he soothed as Sam grumbled. “Just drink this and I’ll leave you alone. Can you do that for me?”

Sam rolled his eyes at the condescension and snatched the bottle from the kid’s hands - but froze when Tommy flinched.

Tommy exaggeratedly rolled his own eyes, in turn. “We can deal with my emotional trauma later, Sam - drink the _fucking_ potion!”

“Alright, fine!” Sam downed it. It was a regeneration potion, one of his best. A little surprising that Tommy could pick it out so quickly - but then, the kid was a known thief. Stealing things probably rewarded the ability to tell value at a glance.

He groaned as the potion took effect, mercilessly binding his body back together. Tommy bit his lip as he watched the magic work.

“Don’t suppose you have any purified water, right? I don’t have a good feeling about what’s going to happen when that regen pot hits the bits of - that weird, wriggly vine - that were left in your back. Wish I could wash it out.”

“Purified - _there’s still bits of it in there?_ ” Sam demanded, then had to muffle another scream as, true to form, the healing magic reached his back - and began _burning_ the parasite away.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s gonna be ok. Sam, Sam, look at me. Can you look at me, Sam? Don’t focus on it.” Tommy grabbed Sam's arms as he doubled over.

“It’s damn difficult to not - _ugh_ , to not focus on it, Toms,” Sam gritted. Tommy floundered. Sam gripped his arms back, and sagged into the boy's shoulder. “Tell me something.”

“What? Tell you what?” Tommy asked desperately.

“I don’t know, _anything_. You’ve always got something to say - what, are you gonna clam up on me now?” Sam tried for a laugh, but only managed a wheeze. Tommy seemed on the verge of crying.

“Ok, yeah, um - I dunno, did I ever tell you what I’ve been writing in my book?”

“No Tommy. What’re you writing in your book?” Sam choked and twitched as the potion hit upon what must’ve been a root, buried deep in the flesh of his shoulder - he was starting to suspect that his armor might not have been responsible for the tearing sensation in his back, after all.

“It’s, uh - it’s Tubbo.”

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Tommy. He could feel before them the precipice of Things We Do Not Talk About, terrible and foreign.

“I’m writing down everything about me ’n Tubbo - our whole story, all the little details about us that nobody else knows. Or, well, _knew_. I’m going to be honest, Sam - I wasn’t expecting to live much longer, when I got here. I’ve got this terrible habit of making enemies out of - out of basically any important and scary person I can find.” Tommy laughed. It sounded all wrong. “And of course, Tubbo already died. Did Dream ever tell you how that happened? I’ve always hoped not, but you seem like the kind of guy who’s nice enough not to mention when he knows something he shouldn’t, so I’ve never been… quite sure.”

“Dream never said a thing about you and Tubbo - not to me, at least. Don’t think he considered my opinion important enough.”

“Alright. Good to know. Um, well, here’s the gist of it, I guess - y’know those disks I’ve always been chasing after?”

“Tommy, I think the whole server knows about the disks,” Sam rasped back sardonically. Tommy snorted and raised a hand as if to shove him, then though the better of it as Sam winced.

“ _Well_ , d’you know why I value ‘em so much?”

“Not really, no.”

“Tubbo was here on the server with, before everything. I mean, obviously you guys were here as well, but I didn’t really know you. Tubbo was the only friend I had around. And me ’n him, when we had some free time, we’d go and listen to those disks. Just the two of us, sitting out on the bench. No wars or anything.”

“So then, you know, Dream takes the disks. And I’ve gotta get ‘em back, Sam - it’s about the _principle_ of the thing, you know. And I guess just, at some point, the disks started to mean everything … well, everything going back to the way it was. You know. I just get through, like, one more fight, one more _negotiation_ , and maybe Tubbo and I would be able to sit on that bench, and just… _breathe_ , again.”

As Sam's pained seizing died down to the occasional twitch, he fell back against the bed. Tommy moved to join him, staring out at the lava.

“Of course Tubbo exiled me, so that somewhat complicated things. And then there was the whole bit with Dream. And of course Techno, and L’Manberg, and everything - Niki burned the L’Mantree, did you know that? I think she’s got some, some… _issues,_ if y’know what I’m saying.” Tommy leaned in and lowered his voice as he said it, as if imparting a secret. Sam huffed a laugh, and Tommy smiled, nudging him.

“But yeah. Tubbo and I made up, and Dream didn’t much like that, but I figured, I figured me ’n Tubbo could team up one last time and get the disks back, once ’n for all. It was this big whole setup - ah man, Sam, you shoulda been there, it was a pretty _epic_ fight if I do say so myself. But then - then, ah… well, it was not so epic.”

Tommy’s lips twitched downwards, and he sniffed. Looking away from Sam to hide his expression, he continued. “And then Tubbo died, of course. Dream, ah - Dream told me to pick between the disks ’n Tubbo, and Tubbo made the decision for me.”

Tommy rubbed at his eyes angrily. “Didn’t even end up give me the fucking disks after all, what a prick. Piece of shit just beat me up and dragged me through the portal right after. And then, well - you were here for all the rest, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sam echoed quietly. He shifted, and winced again, as the potion finished up its work. Ghost pains still flared in all the places he’d been hit; his back was a patchwork of burning.

“Did you know he has this whole vault, by the way?” Tommy said after a moment of silence. “He's got this crazy, like, museum of all of our shit. Said it was all about attachments and - I dunno, how _bad_ they are. Had something on everybody - though I don’t quite remember what spot he had lined up for you, sorry.”

“That’s alright. I don’t really care.”

“Really? _I_ would care, if it were me.”

“Yeah, well. He had me build this whole prison to hold _you_ \- so it’s not like I don’t already know _his_ weak spot.”

Tommy turned and blinked at him, opened his moth to respond - then closed it, frowning. “His what?”

“His weak spot. You know, like your disks. Or my - well, Fran, probably. I’m honestly not shocked he’d build a museum to contain all the stuff we’ve got attachments to, considering how he had me build _this_ thing so he could keep you in one place and, you know, come visit you. Isolate you.”

Tommy’s frown deepened, but he nodded as he thought about it. “Yeah, I guess - I guess they are kinda similar, huh? ‘Cept I’m a person - well, he did have that cell for Skeppy,” he added lowly, then snorted.

“I’m sorry, he had _what_?”

“Right? For BadBoyHalo. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“He - he was gonna - you’re kidding,” Sam snickered.

“I’m not!” Tommy started grinning. “That’s the best bit, I’m really not! There was just, there was a cell for everybody’s things - you know, there was Mars, and Friend, and Carl, and whatever - and then for BadBoyHalo, there was just a cell marked ‘Skeppy’.” He gestured in the shape of a sign, then doubled over as he burst out laughing. “Dumbest thing I’ve ever seen,” he managed. “Me ’n Tubbo were just dying when we saw it. Well, not _dying_ dying, but uh. Well, you know.”

His good mood faded some as he sat up once more, then sighed and tipped his head against Sam's shoulder.

“Hey - I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

“I don’t know if I’m in any position to be granting favors right now, but I’ll do my best?”

“What? No, I'm not going to make you do anything _right now_ , just - ” He reached behind them and pulled the book off the bed. Then he passed it to Sam.

“It’s not like, _completely_ done, but I think it'll do fine. Can you hold onto this for me?”

“Yeah.” Sam took the book, carefully tucking it away inside his bag. He shifted the berries so they wouldn’t stain it. “Why now, though? And why me - if it’s your memories of you and Tubbo, don’t you want to hold onto it?”

“I have been not so good at holding onto things I care about.” Tommy's lips pulled into a sarcastic smile. “And this is important. Y’know - L’Manberg and everything was destroyed, Tubbo ’n Wilbur are dead, and I don’t really have many friends anymore. Excepting you, I guess,” he added, nudging Sam again. “I was just thinking that I want to leave _something_ behind. Something for people to remember me by. So, if you could - if anything happens to me - could you bury this under that bench? Just - just throw it in a chest and leave it there. I’d really like that.”

Sam nodded slowly. “You sound like you’re expecting something to happen.”

“Not really. I mean, I’m trapped here, aren’t I? In your _inescapable_ prison. What could happen to me here? Besides Dream getting really mad and killing me, I guess.” Tommy shrugged.

“Ah - yeah, no, Dream’s not coming back.”

“What?” Tommy straightened and turned to look fully at him. “What d’you mean, he’s not coming back?”

“I meant that he’s not coming back. I won’t let him. Man’s gone straight-up crazy - no way I’m letting him step foot in this place again, much less go and talk to you.”

“What - ‘cause you’re mad that he beat you up?” Tommy snorted, but his expression was vulnerable.

Sam was exhausted.

“No, not that. That’s whatever. He just… said some things, while we were fighting, that made me reconsider my position as Warden.”

“As _Warden_? Sam - Sam, you’re not _quitting_ , are you?” Tommy laughed nervously. “I’m still a prisoner here, y’know.”

Sam rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “No, I’m not quitting. But I’m also not going to keep you here anymore - at least, not on Dream’s behalf. I’m done working for him. Keeping you here was a mistake from the beginning, and I was an idiot not to see it."

“You’re _letting me go_? Well shit Sam, if I’d known beating you up was the ticket to freedom, I would’ve - “ He glanced at the new scars on Sam’s chest and arms, and swallowed what he was about to say. Instead he asked, “You’re certain? I mean, I’m sure plenty of people thought Dream was right to put me in here - and he’s going to target you if you cut me loose.”

“I - “ Sam twisted his lips as he considered what to say and got frustrated. He got to his feet, ignoring Tommy’s protests and how it stretched his still-healing wounds, and walked over to where his sword had been discarded in the corner. He unsheathed it - Tommy flinched - and handed it over, hilt first.

Tommy took it gingerly.

“Kill me,” Sam said, and it fell out of Tommy’s hand to the floor with a clatter.

“What? No! No, I’m not killing you, you - that’s fucked up, Sam, you can’t just say that to a guy."

Sam patiently picked the sword back up and offered it to him again. Tommy didn’t take it. “I am weak and vulnerable,” he said. He grabbed Tommy’s hand and folded it around the hilt; the boy held on but didn’t hold it upright, letting the tip of the sword fall to the ground. “I have been holding you here for weeks. I am not only compliant in what Dream’s done to you, but complicit. You may not be able to get to Dream, right now, but you’d be fully justified in killing me instead.”

“No! I’m not - I’m not going to.” Tommy gestured, sending the sword arcing dangerously through the air before remembering himself and hastily pointing it away.

“Are you sure? Think about it like this - you kill me, you leave, and I tell Dream that you overpowered me after the fight, so he doesn’t target me. Really, you’d be doing me a favor - saving me from a powerful enemy. What about that?”

Tommy froze. The sword no longer touched the ground - he held it at the ready. His stance and posture were good, habitual. Sam wondered who had drilled that into him.

“No,” Tommy said, weaker this time. “I wouldn’t… I don’t want to. No, I don’t want to.” He dropped the sword again, this time flinging it away from him intentionally. “I don’t want to! You can’t make me! I’m not - I’m not a _murderer_ , Sam, I don’t understand why you’re trying to make me into one - “

Sam ignored him and went to the sword, picking it up and resheathing it. He bound the sheath back to his belt, then went to his bag and pulled out an ender chest, which he placed and dug through until he found his emergency kit, from which he pulled out a clean shirt. He made to close it - then glanced at Tommy and pulled out a spare set of armor.

Tommy was still talking. Sam walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, which shut him up - though, blessedly, the kid didn’t flinch for once.

“Thank you for proving my point,” Sam said. “Here’s some armor. Put it on quick so we can get out of here.”

“… what?”

“Thank you for proving my point,” Sam repeated. When Tommy just stared, he elaborated. “You’re a good kid, Tommy. You don’t deserve any of the shit Dream’s given you, and never have.” Then he paused, and turned to face Tommy fully. “And I really _am_ sorry for keeping you here. If you ever - I know you’ve got to be angry, Tommy, and upset. I’m going to help you however I can, so if there’s ever anything you need, just tell me. I’ll work with you.”

Tommy blinked, and his face twitched with some indecipherable emotion. He snatched the armor from Sam’s hands. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. Just, uh - just don’t ask me to kill you again.”

“If it’s what helps,” Sam said, turning to afford him some privacy.

“It’s _not_ , so quit insisting, dickhead,” Tommy muttered as he changed. Then, louder, “So what’s the plan, big man?”

“Plan?”

“Yeah. Surely you’ve got some plan, if you’re freeing me ’n helping me 'n such. You don’t seem like the kind of guy to do things just all willy-nilly.”

“I’ve got some thoughts, yeah. Don’t know how much you’ll like them, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Thoughts like what?”

“I was thinking we might go to Technoblade and ask for help.”

"Oh, _fuck_ no."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: lost city of mizu.  
>   
>  _And then they stepped into the next room - Ranbob seem to flicker in the darkness. There was a book on a pedestal in the center, flanked by two disks._  
>   
>  _"Here lies the sole remaining copy of TommyInnit's autobiography, titled simply "tubbo". It was signed with a note by the Warden, which reads: 'For Tommy. He deserved better.' The reason behind the note, as well as the relationship between the two, is unknown ... though they were presumably friendly. We all know of TommyInnit's tragic end, of course, so perhaps the Warden hid this copy away as an act of penance. Moving on..."_
> 
> jk jk jk LOL  
>   
> that was an interesting tommy & sam stream today, hm?


	4. Chapter 4

They crested another snowy hill. Tommy had picked out the path from the Nether portal unerringly, even as he chattered away about other things.

“I never really got why Tubbo was such a big fan of bees in the first place. I mean, they're kind of shitty, with the stingers 'n all - well, if he’d liked honey or something, I might’ve understood, but he was just kind of - what’s the word that means you don’t care one way or another?”

“Ambivalent.”

“He was just kind of _ambivalent_ towards it. Honey, that is. It was the _bees_ that he liked, and I never understood why - I always asked him, I was like, ‘Tubbo, what’s the deal with all the bees?’ And he would always go, ‘What deal?’ And I would say - are you aright?”

It took Sam a moment to realize that question had been directed his way, and frowned in surprise.“Yeah, of course. Why?”

“You’ve just been wincing a lot, and you’re moving slowly. Has your back still not healed? I got the right potion, didn’t I?”

“No, no, you did a great job. It just twinges from time to time - perfectly normal, no need to worry about it.”

Tommy huffed. “Of course I'm not _worried_. You’re just _slow_ , is all. Here - “ He reached over and tugged the bag from Sam’s shoulder, where he’d been struggling to position it in such a way that it didn’t bang against his back with every other step. Sam let him, mainly out of surprise, and was mildly taken aback as Tommy slung it over his own. Tommy noticed this and frowned.

“I can be nice, sometimes.”

“Didn’t say a word.” Sam patted Tommy on the shoulder and kept moving. The kid was more tense than usual - which was funny, considering the large portion of their recent relationship had been spent under a significant amount of duress. But family had a way of getting to you that other things did not.

And he was right - Sam _had_ been walking slower. The lack of a burden, and lack of associated pain, was a relief.

“It’s just past here,” Tommy said into the lull in conversation.

“Nervous?”

“What? No. I don’t give two shits about Techno.” His fidgeting belied his words.

Sam watched him. “Just how did your last interaction go, again?”

Tommy grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah - I might have ditched him in front of a crowd of enemies, to which he responded by, y’know, blowing up all of L’Manberg. Again.” 

“Right, that’s what I thought.” Sam thought about it. “Maybe let me do the talking, alright?”

Tommy shrugged dubiously.

Finally, they came over one last ridge and there, tucked into the corner of a mountain valley, was a cozy-looking log cabin, abutted by several out-buildings. One building, directly across from the log cabin, was unfinished. It looked similar to what Sam had seen of Tommy's building, before the kid's imprisonment - that is to say, crude.

Tommy frowned. “He tore down my cobblestone tower! The asshole.” Then he squinted. “There’s a new building in the back, I wonder who - well, Ranboo, I guess. I’d heard he’d moved in with them - I wonder how much negotiating he had to do with Techno for the land. Or if he had to do any at all,” he added with a bitter snort.

Sighing, Tommy hefted the pack further up his shoulder. The sun was setting. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said with all the enthusiasm of those forced to interact with estranged family members once more.

“It won’t be so bad,” Sam said as they began to climb down.

“It’s going to be _awful_ ,” Tommy tossed back.

“If he does anything, we can just shove him in a snowbank and run for it.”

“He’s _Technoblade_ , Sam - I’d like to see you try.” Tommy rolled his eyes, but Sam noticed what might’ve been a small, suppressed smile around his lips.

Sam hummed, willing to take that little victory, as they hit the valley floor and approached the house.

“So do we just - do we knock?” He asked. Tommy took a deep breath.

“I’ve found that this method produces the quickest results,” he said casually, and before Sam could intervene, began shouting.

“ _TECHNOBLADE!_ OI, DICKHEAD! ASSHOLE! I BUSTED OUTTA PRISON! HEY, BITCH - YOU HOME?!” He lightly jumped the steps and began banging on the door.

Tommy kept yelling, so Sam could barely make out the thump of footsteps from inside - the door jerked open, and Tommy only barely managed to avoid knocking on Technoblade’s face.

“ _What_?” The warrior growled, and Tommy reeled back. For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other. Then a wide, fake smile broke out across Tommy’s face.

“Hey there, Techno - old friend! I just, uh, suddenly found myself with a lot of free time, so I thought I’d drop by for a visit! Phil around?” He leaned around Techno, not-so-subtly trying to slip inside, and Techno shifted to block the door.

"He’s downstairs,” the Piglin hybrid grunted. His eyes darted to Sam, who was leaning against the stair railing, and back to Tommy. “You convinced him to let you out? I figured you’d be in there forever.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you - jackass.” Tommy scowled and folded his arms. “You didn’t even come to see me!”

“Were we _allowed_ to? It wasn’t exactly like they were passin’ around flyers, Tommy - besides, I thought we were on not so good terms right now, given how you _betrayed_ me ’n all.”

“You blew up L’Manberg!”

“I told you I was going to! I told you the whole time you were livin’ here - showed you the vault ’n everything! ’S not my fault that you - “

“Yeah, well, I told _you_ about the disks the whole time and you never intended to help me with _that_ \- “

“It wasn’t my problem! I thought we were both enemies of L’Manberg, then the second we actually go to _fight_ them you just chicken out and go runnin’ back to - “

“Ah - gentlemen,” Sam interrupted, stepping forward and putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder - the kid angrily shook him off - as another voice came from inside the house.

“Techno, is everything alright up there? I heard yelling.” The voice approached, and Philza appeared behind Technoblade’s bulk. “Oh, hello Tommy. Sam.” He added as he leaned around to get a good look.

Techno pursed his lips as he looked between Phil and the pair outside, then huffed and shifted out of the way, so that they might better talk.

“I just want to remind you that this is _my_ house,” he muttered.

Phil patted him placatingly on the shoulder. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Liar,” Techno snorted. He strode away, and Phil smiled pleasantly.

“Now, what’re the two of you doing here? Last I heard, Tommy, you were in the Prison - with Sam acting as Warden.”

“Dream - “ Tommy started, but Sam cut in.

“It’s something of a long story, and it’s getting dark. We were looking for a place to stay the night.”

“Oh - of course! My apologies, I’m being rude - as was Techno, but, you know - _Techno_.” He shrugged, and Tommy scoffed. Sam felt like he was missing out on a mutual joke, but forged ahead regardless.

“No need to apologize - I realize this is all rather sudden.” He smiled smoothly and guided Tommy into the house as Phil stepped out of the way - the boy shrugged him off again - and practically deflated with relief once the solid wooden doors were between his back and the outside.

“Can’t believe we made it all the way here without getting jumped,” he muttered to Tommy as Philza puttered around, putting together a space for guests. “I thought I was going to end up with an arrow in my back as we were talking.”

“Was that why you were so tense? I figured you just thought I was fucking everything up.” Tommy frowned. He was hurt, Sam realized.

“I just thought your method might take a little longer to produce results - now that we’ve secured lodging for the night, you may yell away to your heart’s content. I _would_ prefer to ally with these people, though.”

“Techno’s a shit ally. I already told you, we don’t need him.”

Sam shrugged. “Agree to disagree.”

Tommy eyed him darkly, but Philza cut off any further debate.

“I’m afraid we don’t have much bed space - things are a little cramped around here as it is, that’s part of why Techno’s so grumpy - so one of you will have to sleep on the floor.”

“I will,” Sam and Tommy said in unison. They glanced at each other. Tommy scowled - Sam kept his expression blank.

“You’re injured,” Tommy began, and Sam sighed aggrievedly.

“I already told you, it’s fine. You’re just a kid, you should - “

“I am _not_ \- if I can fight in wars ’n be imprisoned ’n all this shit, then I can sleep on the goddamn _floor_ \- “

“Well, I literally _just_ broke you out of prison for the explicit reason that you shouldn’t have been in there, so I’m not just going to turn around and make you sleep on the floor when I’m perfectly capable - “

“I’m sure that Ranboo has some extra space over at his place, if it’s really such a trouble,” Philza interjected mildly.

Tommy and Sam looked at each other. Sam glanced at the now darkened windows, and Tommy frowned.

“We’ll be fine,” Sam said, as Tommy nodded his agreement.

Phil snorted, smiling. He’d set a kettle of water to boil over the fire - he knelt, now, poking at the embers, then moved to lean against the dining table. “Alright then. You gonna tell me why you’re here, now, or do I have to go dig Techno up so the whole neighborhood can hear - in the ensuing shouting match?”

Tommy slumped against the couch and folded his arms. He was pouting. Sam didn’t know if he’d seen him do that before.

“Well, there’s a lot to be said,” Sam said, eyes on Tommy’s hunched figure, “but the gist of it is that Dream and I are not on good terms anymore, and we need a place to recoup.”

Phil hummed consideringly. “And Pandora wouldn’t work for that?”

“It would if we never intended to leave again. Which, sure,” Sam shrugged. “I could make that place self-sustaining _easily_. But, well - have you been into town recently?

“Not since… L’Manberg,” Philza said slowly. Tommy twitched.

Sam hurried to head off that minefield. “So you haven’t seen everything with the Egg?”

“Egg? What Egg?”

“Oh boy,” Sam muttered. “Alright. Um, we might want Techno for this conversation - and Ranboo, I guess? Might as well fill you all in at once.”

“I don’t know if Ranboo’s home right now - kid’s like a cat, tends to come and go as he pleases. Techno’s probably gone to check on Carl or something - “ He shifted, but Tommy preempted him by surging up off the couch.

“I’ll go get him,” he interjected before Phil could say anything further, and hurried downstairs.

They watched him go. “That won’t end well,” Phil murmured.

Sam shrugged. “Maybe they’ll surprise you.”

“Just me?”

“Can’t really be surprised if I never have any clue what to expect.”

Phil laughed. “True, true - they’re both quite the wildcards, aren’t they? Between them and Wilbur, I could never really tell what was coming next.” His expression became melancholic. Sam coughed.

“So you’ve known Tommy for while, then?”

“Oh, no, not really. More like I adopted Wilbur, and Wilbur adopted him - Tommy just attached to his side and never really seemed to leave, afterwards.” Phil shrugged. “Then they took off for this place, of course, and I figured they’d be alright so long as they had each other.”

Philza glanced down at at the floor, white-knuckled where he leaned against the table.

“And then Techno followed?”

“Yeah. Got a letter one day - took off for here. I followed eventually.” He smiled bitterly. “You know enough of the rest.”

“I’m starting to think I really _don’t_ , now that I’ve been caught up in Tommy’s orbit. But yes, it doesn’t bear discussing at the moment.” Sam paused. “Especially because, as you say, what I really need to know should be broadcasted to ‘the whole neighborhood’ in a few moments.”

“Letting him fight it out with Techno, rather than trying to pry the truth from him yourself?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Sneaky,” Phil tipped his head, considering Sam differently. Sam couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disapproving.

Sam shrugged. “ _You_ were the one who initially suggested it, even if as a joke. Kid’s got emotional issues, and we’ve got a lot else going on. Gotta get my information _somehow_.”

“Sure.” Phil walked over to the kettle as it began shrieking, pulling it off the fire with the poker and setting it on a protective mat that was already set up on the table. “You have a preference for tea?”

“Not really.”

“Mm. Tommy does - black, with lots of cream and sugar. Or, well, that’s what he liked the last time I made tea for him. That was quite some time ago.” His back was to Sam now as he busied himself with the tea fixings.

Slightly raised voices started up outside, and Phil sighed. Sam stood to join him, as the table was right by the windows.

Techno was standing in the snow, at the edge of the torchlight, horse tacked up and ready at his side. Tommy was confronting him, back to the house, hands on his hips.

Phil cracked the window open, and it was suddenly much easier to hear what they were saying.

“ - can’t just take off the second I get here, you - you _ass_! What the hell?”

“I’m not just _takin’_ off, I was plannin’ on doing goin’ out before the two of you even got here - you can’t just show up ’n demand that everybody fit their schedules around you - “

“Well I’m _sorry_ that my getting _freed from prison_ is interrupting your _running errands_ but you could’ve at least said _goodbye_ \- “

“I’m coming back! I was always planning on coming back - it’s _my_ house! I just wanted to run to the spawner ’n grab some string - “

Sam inhaled wrong and choked. Phil thumped him on the back enthusiastically, eyes still on the scene before them - until Sam leaned forward and opened the window further.

“Might not want to do that, Techno,” Sam called.

Tommy started, as he realized that their conversation had had an audience. Techno had seen them in the window - he eyed Sam now distrustfully.

“And why’s that?”

“Well, there’s this big demonic Egg positioned right on top of the spawner now, with a cult to match - so, you know.” He shrugged. “Kind of puts a damper on things.”

Techno raised his eyebrows. Tommy looked confused.

“A demonic Egg cult,” Phil repeated quietly. Then he, too, leaned in to call out the window.

“Yeah, Techno, might want to hold off on that. Let’s, uh - let’s hear what they have to say.”

Techno looked between all of them, then sighed and shrugged.

“This is why I moved out to the middle of nowhere,” Sam heard him say to Tommy as he passed the boy. “Thought it would encourage everybody to leave me alone.”

Tommy patted him on the shoulder. “It’s your sparkling personality, big man. We just can’t stay away.”

Techno laughed. Phil smiled at the sound and started pouring cups of tea.

Sam slipped a book from his bag and moved it into the ender chest in the corner of the room - just to be safe.

-

The process of explaining the Egg was long and arduous - particularly since Sam himself didn’t know the whole story. He felt that he managed it well enough.

“So you don’t know what it is, or where it came from - only that it has mind control powers and seems to be spreadin’.” Techno reclined in his chair. He’d taken off the robe, hung it from a hook in the corner, but didn’t look any less intimidating - more like a different brand of it.

“That and it can eat people,” Tommy unexpectedly cut in. When Sam looked over, questioningly, he continued, “That vine that was embedded in your back - I thought Dream’d put it there, but that must’ve been the Egg, right?”

“Yes - very good catch, Tommy.” The boy straightened a bit at the praise and grinned. There was an odd moment as Philza and Techno’s eyes flickered between the two of them. Sam carried on, sensing that if he didn’t things might get personal again. “Now that I think about it, Ant helped me up - he might’ve slipped the vine onto me while doing that. We’ll have to be careful to stay away from them in the future.”

“So Dream’s allied with these guys? Or - well, who’re you fighting against?” Phil asked.

He too was surprisingly domestic, curled into a corner of the couch. He’d taken it only once Tommy had sat on the other side - Tommy had tensed with the placement and hadn’t really relaxed since. Phil ignored the boy’s rigid posture and suspicious glances with a practiced kind of serenity.

“It’s a three-way event, currently - the Eggpire against Dream, Dream against the them and then the two of us. For _now_ I believe the Eggpire will continue their recruiting attempts, but as I have no intention of joining them, they will likely attempt to remove me from the playing field.”

“Kill you, you mean,” Techno corrected.

Sam shrugged. “Probably, yes. I don’t imagine it’s anything _personal_ \- the same ultimatum will likely be issued to everybody here. They’ve just encountered me first.”

“We should just go ahead and stab ‘em all,” Tommy said. He mimed stabbing to demonstrate his point. Techno arched an eyebrow.

“ _We_? I hope you’re referring to the pair of you, as I’ve no interest in waging any other wars on your behalf.”

Philza cut in. “What Techno means to say is - are you here to ask for our help? And what form of help are you looking for? I agree that this Eggpire seems to be a menace, but we live quite far away from the area it’s situated in. And your squabble with Dream is your own.”

“Is it?” Sam asked, tilting his head.

There was a moment of silence in the cabin.

“What do you mean by that?” Philza asked.

Sam stood, feeling antsy, and walked over to the windows. “I spent a lot of time building Pandora. Initially, most days, Dream would join me,” He said said. At the border of the torchlight, outside, monsters milled in the darkness.

“And as I would build, he would talk about his plans for the future. I didn’t know quite _who_ he wanted to throw in Prison - he was obsessed with the balance of power, so I do believe that as power fluctuated amongst us so his plans changed - but I spent a lot of time speculating. You, Technoblade - his greatest rival and competition.” Sam turned and looked at them. “You, Philza - who holds Technoblade’s ear and Wilbur Soot’s heart. He had an odd fascination with Karl, as well, so that crossed my mind as well - but then Tommy went into exile, of course, and things became… different.”

“Different how?” Philza prompted. Technoblade’s frown had deepened at the mention of Philza being imprisoned - Sam hoped that they were following.

“I think he achieved everything he was hoping to in exiling Tommy,” Sam tilted his head as he considered it. “He relaxed a lot. It wasn’t until Tommy came here and allied with Technoblade that he started to get… I don’t know, _anxious_ again. But at that point we weren’t talking so much - I was nearly finished with the Prison and did the final stages on my own, for security’s sake.”

“What d'you mean? I thought you were building it for him.”

“Yes, but that was part of my initial deal with him - he could use the Prison as he wished, but only I would ever know how to navigate the entirety of it.” Sam shrugged. “My own little, ah, contingency measure.”

“Use the Prison how he wished, until you decided otherwise,” Techno observed dryly.

“What, think he shouldn’t’ve freed me?” Tommy challenged.

Techno glanced at him with some surprise.

“What? No, obviously not - I wasn’t _happy_ that you were in there, Tommy. I’m just saying, seems like he didn’t hold up his part of the deal.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, well, Dream also tried to kill me. That made me realize that he’s gone full crazy, and reconsider the point in restraining - you know, a literal child.” That wasn’t the whole truth of it, but it was all they needed to know.

“Right, right,” Philza agreed even as Tommy muttered, “Still not a child.”

“But this all just brings us back to my original point,” Techno said. “Are you asking for our help or not? ‘Cause I am _through_ with fighting other people’s wars for them - especially when they tend to turn their backs on me at the most crucial moments.”

“I’m asking for your help, but I don’t want you to fight for me,” Sam said, and everybody else in the room turned to look at him in surprise. He blinked at their stares.

“What? I don’t. I want to be able to go back to my base and get my stuff, and my dog - and then I want some time and space to plan. That’s all. I don’t _need_ you guys to help - I don’t even need your supplies. I’d just like to use your physical presence as a deterrent.” He shrugged. “Can’t speak for Tommy - if he had his way we wouldn’t even be here right now.”

“That true?” Technoblade asked.

Tommy shrugged uncomfortably. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome. Not that I care,” he added, tense and defensive.

“Right,” Philza stretched the word out, standing as he did so. “I think we have a lot to think about, and it’s getting late. Techno, I’ll be staying with Ranboo tonight, I think. I’ll see you all in the morning?”

“Sure.” Techno stood as well, leaving the room with little further fanfare. Phil watched him go with a kind of fond exasperation.

“Well, I imagine you two can handle yourselves for the rest. Blankets are there, and pillows… yeah, you’ve got it,” he said as Tommy grabbed one the blankets and shook it out, laying it out on the floor by the couch. “Ok. See you in the morning.”

A blast of cold air accompanied his departure, and he vanished into the night.

Sam and Tommy looked at each other.

“I’m sleeping on the floor,” the kid said, eyes steely. It was depressingly similar to the expression Techno had worn while Sam was talking about imprisoning Philza.

“Alright,” he said. He was exhausted. “Alright.”

And with that they went to sleep. The cabin was warm and peaceful - and most importantly, _safe_.

-

A few hours later, Tommy screamed.

Sam flung himself off the couch, sword in hand, looking around furiously for an attacker - but he didn’t see anybody.

There was a clatter overhead, and Techno burst into the room, sword also in hand.

“What happened?” He demanded, but Sam could only shrug, wide-eyed and oblivious. Tommy was folded over, shaking and rubbing his eyes. At Techno’s question, he looked up.

“Just a bad dream. Thought I saw… well, I just thought I saw somebody. Don’t worry about it - sorry for waking you.”

“Who’d you see?” Techno asked, strangely intense.

Tommy hesitated. “I thought… well, I thought I saw Tubbo. But he’s, y’know. Dead.”

Techno relaxed, strangely enough, setting his sword on the table and falling into one of the dining chairs like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“There’s something I’ve been meanin' to tell you,” he said, and Sam felt a pit open in his stomach as he sensed the impending arrival of more complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, bookmarker Petersilie. I saw your "no tub :( " comment before posting, and had a good laugh :p  
> y'all should really read that chapter I mentioned when starting this :)  
>   
> will no longer be updating daily, but i will try and finish this quickly - and just to be proactive: please no hating on phil or techno's dsmp characters in the comments.  
>   
>   
>   
> EDIT: i've been doing this kind of challenge where each chapter has been 4004 words. as i post this its 2-4-21, i have just reached 16016 words on this work and then i went back and checked my profile stats, and realized i'm on 16016 hits total.
> 
> if my life was a story this would all _mean_ something but its _not_ and it's driving me a little crazy lmao. i will at the very least immortalize the moment in a chapter note.


	5. Chapter 5

“I think Tubbo’s been hauntin’ me,” Technoblade said, and the world shifted ever-so-slightly on its axis.

“What?” Tommy replied. He laughed disbelievingly. Sam did not.

“For how long?” he asked.

“About a month - first time I saw him was the night he died. He keeps popping up and shooting at me,” Techno mimicked the movement of firing a crossbow to demonstrate.

Sam pursed his lips as he considered it. Tommy looked between the two of them.

“Sam, don’t tell me you’re actually… look, no, that’s ridiculous. Even if Tubbo _did_ come back as a ghost - which, we still don’t know how that works, since Ghostbur’s been gone for ages and Schlatt never came back - even if he _did_ come back as a ghost, why would he haunt _you_?” Tommy’s voice splintered slightly on the last word, and he cleared his throat to play it off.

“I don’t know!” Techno threw his hands up as if protesting his innocence. “That’s what we’ve been tryin’ to figure out - me ’n Ranboo. ‘Cause I was the second one to kill him is the best we could manage, but then it would stand to reason that he’s also haunting Dream ’n Sapnap, and - well, did Dream say anythin’ before?” He asked Sam, and Sam shook his head.

“He didn’t tell me much, usually, but yeah, you’d think he would’ve mentioned… if not to me, then to you,” he directed Tommy’s way.

Tommy was still staring at Technoblade. The incredulous half-smile had dropped from his face, replaced by blank shock.

“Tommy,” Sam said, and the kid flinched, broken from his reverie.

“Sorry, sorry. Yeah, um… yeah. I dunno. Maybe Dream was intending to tell me later, once he’d broken me down a bit more. Who can say,” he shrugged. Then, to Techno again, “How often do you see him? Is it, like, on command, or on a schedule…?” He trailed off as Techno shook his head.

“Unpredictable, but it’s been gettin’ more frequent. Couple’a weeks between the first attack and the second - couple’a days between ‘em now. He still hasn’t managed to actually hurt me - though the power behind the attacks has been growin’ too.” He pulled up his sleeve, and there was a bandage on his arm. “Dodged this last one, but didn’t quite manage to evade entirely. Nicked me. Wouldn’t’ve bothered with a bandage, typically, but Phil insisted.”

Tommy squinted at him. “So he’s haunting you, and attacking whenever he appears. Are you _sure_ this is Tubbo? I dunno, vengeful spirit just doesn’t… doesn’t really seem like his _style_.”

Then he looked down and muttered, as if to himself, “And I haven’t seem him at all, which is just… strange.”

“That’s kinda why I didn’t say anythin’, at first,” Techno said slowly. “I don’t know… well, I dunno if it really _is_ Tubbo. And if it _is_ him, I don’t know how _much_ of him it is.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked, brow furrowing.

“Well, when Ghostbur came back, it was Wil, but it _wasn’t_ Wil, right?” Tommy nodded. “So it stands to reason that, even if Tubbo came back, he would be… _different_.”

“Wrong,” Tommy corrected. “That he would come back wrong.”

Techno shrugged. “Maybe. We just don’t know. Not much to say, other than wait and see - that’s what we’ve been doin’.”

“Mm.” Tommy looked away, out the window, and didn’t respond further. After a beat, Sam coughed and replied in his stead.

“Yeah, let’s do that. If that’s all you know, then there’s not much we can do for now. Let’s all just… head back to bed.”

Techno nodded and stood, grabbing his sword and slinging himself back up the ladder once more. Tommy didn’t move.

Sam watched him. “It won’t do us any good to worry about it right now.”

Tommy didn’t respond, but the corner of his mouth pulled down. His gaze remained fixed out the window.

Sam sighed and clasped him on the shoulder. The boy leaned slightly into the touch. “It’ll be alright,” he said, and went back to bed.

He took the spot on the floor and fairly passed back out. He was only vaguely aware of when Tommy stirred and moved back to the couch - huffing a laugh and crouching down next to Sam when he saw what had happened.

“Sam. Sam,” Tommy shook his shoulder slightly. Sam cracked an eyelid. “You’re in the wrong spot, genius.”

“Don’t care,” Sam muttered, and rolled over.

Tommy laughed quietly again - but after a moment, stood and moved back over to the couch. Sam could tell he’d taken it by the creak of the springs and shifting of fabric.

Sam shifted to a more comfortable position on the hard, cold floor, and sighed contentedly.

-

Philza swept into the house early the next morning, the banging of the door and cold wind that followed him waking the both of them in a way that the bright morning sunlight reflecting off the snowfield hadn’t managed.

“Oh, sorry,” he said as he noticed them stir. “Figured you all would be up now. Is Techno still abed, then, as well?” He peered up the ladder.

A grumpy voice called down. “Not anymore.”

There was the thud of footsteps overhead, as Techno presumably began getting ready for the day, and Philza laughed with absolutely no remorse.

“Good morning!” He shouted up the ladder, and dodged a pillow as it came flying down, laughing even harder.

Sam smiled a bit at the sight. He was moderately envious of Techno and Phil’s friendship - always had been. He glanced at Tommy, and saw a soft, nostalgic kind of expression on the kid’s face.

It made Sam’s heart hurt.

He looked away, and stretched as the consequences of sleeping on the floor made themselves known. His back twinged, and he grunted.

“How is it?” Tommy asked, and Sam looked over at him. The kid wasn’t watching Phil and Techno’s antics anymore, but instead examining him with faint anxiety. “Your back? The cut didn’t reopen or anything, did it?”

“No, no. It’s fine, just a little stiff.” He stretched again, and locked down his expression as another pang hit him.

They’d caught Phil’s attention, Techno now sufficiently harassed. He strode across the room and leaned against the couch, peering at Sam. “This about that injury you were talking about last night? The one with the - what was it, a vine?”

“Yeah. We treated it with a potion when Sam got back to the Prison, but I don’t know if it ever fully healed. Y’know, since it was such a weird thing to begin with,” Tommy answered before Sam could, and Philza seemed surprised at how serious the boy was being.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Tommy’s serious expression was replaced by a slowly growing scowl.

“And as I’ve been saying,” Sam cut in before yet another argument could break out, “I’m fine. It’s been twingeing a bit, sure, but it’s nothing to worry over - especially with everything else going on.”

“Well what else is going on right now? No time like the present to take a look at it. Besides, if you used a potion on it - regeneration, right? - if you used a regeneration potion on it then you shouldn’t be hurting, unless it didn’t heal right. So let’s give it a look.”

Sam grimaced as Tommy shot him an accusing stare.

“You said that it was normal!”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well now I’m even _more_ worried, so good job with that, dickhead!”

Sam sighed. “You’re right. Sorry. _But_ ,” he added as Tommy faltered in what he’d been about to say, “You asked what else is going on right now, Phil, and there was something I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Oh?” Phil didn’t look very amused by his sloppy dodge of the medical examination.

“Yes, and I _promise_ we can all poke and prod at my back wound once I get back - but time is of the essence, here. I gotta go get my dog.”

“Ah.”

“Amongst other things,” Sam continued, “Before Dream or the Eggpire get there. This server has a tendency to use pets as leverage or kill them in the crossfire of other conflicts - I’d prefer that that not happen to Fran as well.”

“Of course,” Phil nodded understandingly. “Want us to go with you?”

“Phil, are you volunteerin’ me for more things?” Techno’s voice projected down from above, and his face appeared in the trapdoor above the ladder, peering down at them. He slid down it a moment later.

“Of course not,” Phil said, grinning. Techno eyed him.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’d prefer to do this one alone. It really should just be a quick, in and out sort of thing,” Sam said, trying to strike the right balance of reassuring and dismissive.

Phil still seemed skeptical. “And if you get attacked? Seems like this is just the sort of opportunity your enemies’d be waiting for.”

Sam shrugged. “I got away from them once, I can do it again. And I was serious about not wanting to ally with you two for your fighting abilities.” None of them seemed convinced. He sighed. “I just think that the less moving parts to this, the better. I slip through the Nether, I get to my house, I get my dog. Not a big deal.”

“Alright,” Phil waved dismissively. “Whatever you want, I guess.”

He drifted off to go fix breakfast. Techno glanced between Sam and Tommy, then settled into a chair in the corner, pulling out his sword and a whetstone.

As the rasp of it punctuated the background, vaguely unsettling, Sam turned to Tommy. He already had an inkling of what to expect, and his suspicions were confirmed - Tommy’s face was set in determined lines, and he was already collecting their things.

“Tommy,” was all he managed to get out, before the boy launched into a tirade.

“You’re already injured, and you want to go traipsing across the Nether and poking around your base, where they’re _obviously_ going to be expecting you to go - “

_“Tommy_ ,” Sam tried again, but Tommy raised his voice and continued.

“I can see why you wouldn’t want Phil or Techno to come along, but we’re a _team_ \- you can’t just free me from Prison and say all this stuff about helping me just to ditch me when it’s convenient - “

“Tommy!” Sam finally shouted, getting to his feet. Tommy froze and stared, wide-eyed - Phil and Techno paused in their tasks as well. They’d very obviously been listening, but now they discarded even the pretense of privacy.

Sam glanced at them, and sighed with some exasperation. “Can we talk outside, please? As in, _actually_ talk?”

Tommy looked at Phil and Techno as well, then slowly set the bags down. “Fine,” he acquiesced, and they left the cozy warmth of the cabin for the cold snow and wind of the steps immediately outside.

“It’s a bad idea,” Sam says, raising a hand to forestall Tommy’s angry rebuttal. “The only reason I got out like I did last time was because I was alone. If there were two of us, they could just grab one and use that to manipulate the other. I wouldn’t have run if you were captured or injured. It’s safer for you to just stay here.”

“But if I were with you, he might not’ve _beat_ you. If there were two of us, we might be able to fight him off! Or the Egg guys as well, I guess,” he added as an afterthought.

“I don’t know if anybody on this server can fight Dream off besides Technoblade,” Sam said grimly. “He’s… not like he was.”

“Take Techno, then.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I - look. I can fight my own battles, I’m not looking to recruit people to fight them for me.”

“Why _not_?” Tommy was clearly getting frustrated. “If the only person on the server that can take Dream is the Blade, and he’s _right_ there, then why _not_ get him to help?”

“Because that just complicates things! This doesn’t _need_ to be complicated.” Sam sighed. “Look. Tommy. I’m used to doing things alone, so I’m _not_ used to having to protect somebody else. If it’s just me, I can do it quickly - I’ll just go through the Nether like a have a _million_ times before, grab Fran, and I’ll be back here before sundown. Then we can figure out our next steps.”

Tommy looked at him, the set of his mouth slightly bitter. “This is why you wanted to come here, wasn’t it? You wanted to leave me somewhere safe that wasn’t the Prison, while you ran around doing all the actually important stuff.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Knowing that you'd be safe here might’ve figured into it, yeah. But I disagree with how you’re portraying things - this is just an errand.”

Tommy nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I'm surprised at you, Sam. You're sneakier than I thought.”

“I was just thinking ahead - and if that’s everything, I’ll be going now.”

“Oh, hell no. You’re either leaving with me or with Techno.”

“Tommy,” Sam groaned, but the kid wasn’t done.

“And if you don’t take me or him, then I’m going to follow you after you leave. And if you try to make them keep me here, then I am going to be the most unpleasant person I can be - and I can be pretty unpleasant, I’ll have you know - so that they’ll want me the hell out of their house the second you come back, and we will be ally-less once more.” He folded his arms.

Sam considered him. “That’s quite the ultimatum - you’ve kind of backed me into a corner, here.”

“Good. So am I coming, or what?”

Sam eyed him for a moment longer before conceding. “Fine,” he said, and Tommy whooped excitedly. “Let’s grab our stuff and get moving, then. Daylight’s wasting.”

So they collected their things and departed. Phil looked at him skeptically, but shrugged as they announced their attentions. Techno didn’t seem to react - but held a hand out to stop Tommy as the kid went for the door.

“Got any gapples?” He asked, and Tommy grinned.

“Took a stack from your chests last night. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh my God,” Techno rolled his eyes and made as if to shove the kid away with his foot - but Tommy was already dancing away, laughing tauntingly. “Get outta here.”

They did. The snow crunched underfoot as they walked back to the Nether portal - Sam took care to remember the way, this time - and the cabin vanished as hills rose up behind them.

-

The heat of the Nether was a rude shock after the cold of the tundra.

“Don’t know how Phil and Techno can tramp around here in their cold weather gear. Shit sucks,” Tommy murmured, and Sam made a noise of agreement.

The convenient thing about the Nether was that, with its color scheme of red and variations thereof, there weren’t very many places where Dream could blend in with the environment. The _inconvenient_ thing about the Nether was that it matched BadBoyHalo’s color scheme entirely - or at least, it _had_.

“Bad and Ant look a little different now, by the way,” he said to Tommy, looking around as they walked. He had on gold and diamond armor - Tommy was wearing his spare Netherite. He had the ingots and Bottles o’ Enchanting at his base to repair his main suit of armor - for now it languished, useless and damaged, in his ender chest.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Something - the Egg, presumably - messed with their coloring.”

“Messed with their coloring… how?”

“Well, Bad’s not black and red anymore, but black and white. And Antfrost’s eyes are red now, instead of blue.”

“Hm.” Tommy considered it, and frowned. “That’s almost comically evil.”

Sam laughed, caught by surprise. “It is, yeah. Doesn’t really help their case, I gotta admit - it’s pretty unnerving in person.”

“Yeah.” Tommy eyed him, fidgeting slightly.

“What is it?” Sam asked, when the boy didn’t say anything further.

“Are we good?” Tommy burst out. “After the fight earlier. Like, you’re not mad or anything… right?”

He was clearly anxious. Sam blinked. “No - why would I be mad?”

“Well, ‘cause you didn’t want to take me along, and I made you. I - I guess I just figured you’d be pissed at me, but you seem… normal.”

Sam shrugged. “I mean, it’s not my _ideal_ situation - but no, I’m not mad. You were just worried for me - why would I be mad at you for that?”

“I dunno. I just… kind of strong-armed you into it. I thought you’d be annoyed.”

“Oh - well I can be _annoyed_ , but not _mad_.”

“What?” The question was underscored by an uncomprehending laugh.

“I mean, did it irritate me in the moment? Yeah - I’d like to be able to do things without you arguing or manipulating me into doing what _you_ want. But again, I understand _why_ you wanted to come with me, and I realize it came from a good place, so I’m not mad.” Sam shrugged. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll end up being right, and I’ll have to eat my words. Or maybe _I’ll_ end up being right about how I should’ve been the only one to come, and we’ll…”

He tilted his head as he considered the worst-case scenario in which he was actually in the right, and amended what he’d been about to say.

“And we’ll figure that out when we come to it.”

Tommy was staring at him - staring, but then burst out laughing as he realized what’d given Sam pause. “What, in case we both get captured? Shouldn’t we come up with a contingency plan, then - instead of just ‘oh, we’ll figure it out when we get there’? Like, what?” He laughed some more, and Sam rolled his eyes, grinning.

They’d come to the ice path. Sam clambered into the first boat, gesturing for Tommy to climb in behind him.

“What if I want to take my own boat?” Tommy asked, even as he did so.

“Then you can fight off the Piglins yourself,” Sam responded dryly. Tommy scoffed.

“What, those? They’re easy. Just pigs with some knifes on ‘em - all you gotta do is some,” he mimicked swinging his sword and made some swooshing noises as Sam piloted them away. “Of course, it’s much easier if you’ve got a shield,” he added once done. “We should probably get those.”

“Yeah, we should. Speaking of which - weren’t you the one saying we should have a contingency plan? Hit me with one.”

“Uh - alright. What was it you said about Technoblade? Right, how about this - Dream appears, and we just shove him in a snowbank and run for it.”

“No snow around my base.”

“Fuck. Um, shove him in a - a river? Do you have a river?”

“Mm, I don’t think so.”

“Well shit Sam, you’re kind of robbing me of all my options, here.”

“Sorry,” Sam laughed. “I thought you were the one with all the plans, though.”

“Yeah, I… I dunno.” Tommy trailed off - Sam glanced back and saw the boy staring over his shoulder, into the dark of the Nether as it swept by behind them.

“Tommy?”

“What?” Tommy startled and swung back to look at Sam. Sam tilted his head.

“You alright?”

“What? Yeah, uh, yeah. I’m alright. Just thought I saw… something.”

He seemed shaken. Sam thought about it.

“Like you thought you saw something last night?”

Tommy laughed weakly. “Maybe. I, uh - I don’t know whether to hope so, or not. It was just a kind of weird shadow, could’ve been anything - an Enderman, maybe.”

“Right,” Sam replied, and neither of them believed it.

-

The approach to his base was much as he remembered it - which, somehow, left him feeling even more tense than if it had been destroyed.

“Do you think he’s here?” Tommy asked.

Sam shrugged. “I really can’t say. Hopefully he has something better to do today than harass us - but if he knows you’re out of the prison… I don’t know. Just - just be careful. Quiet.”

“Right, of course,” Tommy said seriously. Then he grinned. “I’m one of the most quiet people I know!”

Sam shot him a dubious look, and the grin only grew - to the point where Sam couldn’t suppress his own smile. He elbowed Tommy gently.

“I look forward to the demonstration of it,” he said, then sobered as they stepped out into the open and towards the bare rock face that marked the entrance to his base.

Tommy watched him root around in his bag before finally producing a hoe. “Going to do some farming?” The joking question seemed to slip out unintentionally - Tommy clapped a hand over his mouth and widened his eyes apologetically. Sam snorted, and tilled the piece of dirt, thereby activating the system that opened his door.

As the loud, prolonged process began, Tommy shoved him. “And here you are telling _me_ to be quiet, when you’ve got the loudest door in the _world_ \- “

“Just because the _door_ has to be loud doesn’t mean that _you_ have to be.“

“What, like we’ll give him two extra seconds of warning?”

“I mean, you never know.”

“ _Please_.” Tommy rolled his eyes as the doors finished falling and they stepped inside. “You’re being - “

The lights flickered on, revealing swaths upon swaths of red vines filling the room. The light didn't manage to reach the corners anymore; they remained enshrouded in shadow. Sam had already hit the door button, out of habit. It slowly, inexorably, ground shut behind them.

Fran sat in the middle of it all.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Tommy breathed. Sam’s heart clenched.

“We’ve got to get her out of there,” he said, surging forward. Tommy grabbed him.

“Wait wait wait wait, hold on a sec there, big man. Let’s be smart about this.”

“Smart about - Tommy, do you see how much shit’s in here? Who _knows_ what it’s doing to her.”

“I know, I know. Let's just - ” Seemingly satisfied that the Warden wasn’t about to throw himself into the vines, Tommy edged forward and prodded a vine carefully. It twitched, but didn’t do anything else. “Ok. Alright. Do you think we could cut these away, or something?”

Sam pulled his hoe out again. “We can try,” he said dubiously. “But time’s really of the essence, here.”

He gave the hoe an experimental swing, severing the nearest vine easily - and doubled over as a screaming pierced his mind.

“Sam? Sam! Hey, what’s - what is it?”

“It’s _screaming_ ,” Sam gritted out. “Can’t you hear it?”

“Screaming? No, no, I can’t, uh, hear anything. Let’s just,” he grabbed Sam’s elbow and half-led, half-dragged him away from the vines. Sam slumped as the screaming died off somewhat.

“What the actual hell,” he muttered, still clutching his head.

“Yeah, I’m kind of wondering the same thing,” Tommy chuckled weakly. “You could hear it _screaming_?”

“Yeah, it…” Sam trailed off and looked up at the vines, squinting in confusion. “Are they _talking_ to me?”

Tommy flinched, staring at him in horror, and Sam turned him. “What? Can you hear them too?”

“No, it’s just… your eyes were looking kind of strange there, for a second. White.”

Sam blinked at him. “Are they still white?”

“No, they fixed themselves.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer.

“We have _got_ to get out of here,” Sam muttered, and Tommy nodded fervently.

He picked up the hoe that Sam had discarded, and Sam flinched.

They looked at each other again.

“It’ll be fine,” Sam said, even as Tommy said, “So no hoe, then, if they’re going to hurt you every time.”

He dropped it with a clatter, and Sam leveraged himself up. “Tommy - don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like you said, Sam - it’ll be fine.” He flashed Sam a grin before gingerly, delicately stepping a top one of the vines. It didn’t move, and he started picking his way towards Fran - the murmuring voices in Sam’s head intensified, growing agitated.

“You really don’t hear anything?” Sam asked, raising his voice to carry as Tommy moved away.

“I mean, no more than I usually hear. The _voices,_ you know,” Tommy said flippantly, spreading his arms out to balance.

“Uh,” Sam replied.

“What? You know, like, the voices! That tell you to do things. You get ‘em too, right?”

“ _Uh_ ,” Sam said again, and Tommy waved a hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Techno said some people get ‘em, some people don’t - and sometimes not all the time! Here we are.”

He knelt next to Fran, and the dog sniffed his hand cautiously.

“Fran,” Sam called, and she perked up as Tommy set about untying her leash.

“Yeah, there’s a good girl. Let’s get you out of here, hm? All this nasty stuff.”

“There’s a chest in the corner, too - far right side, under the rock. It’s got my important stuff in it.”

“Alright.” Tommy had to dig through a vine in order to get to the floor - Sam winced as he did so, banging his head lightly against the wall as the piercing telepathic screams began anew. Tommy hit rock, and soon enough, there was the noise of a chest popping open.

“Well shit, Sam,” he called, sounding impressed. “You’re pretty stacked, huh? When you can get to it, that is.”

“Yeah. Ran out of space in my ender chest. You know how it is.”

“I don’t, really. I keep on dying or getting my base blown up before I can get anything good - it’s very annoying, actually.”

“Yeah, I can imagine that.” Sam watched as Tommy pulled out stacks of valuables and shoved them into his bag. “That why you steal things so much?”

“Well, yeah.” Tommy shrugged. “If I’m going to get targeted and lose my shit so much, might as well steal from the people who _aren’t_ losing their shit all the time, right? Not like they can’t just get more.”

“Have you considered hiding the stuff you do manage to collect?”

“I did that, once - with the disks, shoved ‘em in this chest that I had buried deep underground. Dream tricked me into going to check the chest, then tracked me to it. It was pretty crazy - he’s really smart, when he wants to be.” He finished his work and slung the now-considerably-heavier bag back over his shoulder, throwing the rocks back atop the chest and shifting a different vine so that it partially covered the area.

“I think I actually remember that. It was the first of the Disk Wars, right? You guys kept griefing everybody’s houses in the crossfire.”

“Yeah. Accidentally pissed a lot of people off during that,” Tommy said, caught between a grimace and a fond smile.

“Accidentally,” Sam repeated unbelievingly.

“Hey! It wasn’t my fault that Punz’s house just happened to be there! If he didn’t want to get griefed, he shouldn’t’ve - well no, I probably shouldn’t say that.” Tommy muttered as he picked his way back to Sam. Fran followed obediently at his side, still on the leash.

“Would you apologize to him now? Punz, that is.”

“Oh, well sure. Apologized to him just before that whole confrontation with Dream, for that amongst other things. Well, I _tried_ to apologize. Couldn’t really, as he wasn’t home, and I had other things to do.”

Tommy hopped off the vines and landed lightly on the ground. He dropped the leash and Fran flung herself at Sam, licking his face and barking excitedly. He laughed and pushed her off, trying to lever himself up to a better angle to handle her onslaught.

Tommy helped him stand.

“Don’t want anything else in here, right?”

“No, that’ll be it.” Sam patted Fran’s head and looked around his base, mouth pulling down into a slight frown as he looked at the vines covering what had once been his home. “I’ll have to come and fix this place back up once all the Egg stuff is over with.”

Tommy shrugged. “All in due time. Feeling any better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, getting away from it helped. Back’s starting to hurt again, though.” He frowned. “I’ve also been wondering just how this all got here in the first place. D’you think that Bad and Ant came while I was away…? I’m pretty sure they know how to get here.”

“Who knows,” Tommy shrugged. “So long as it’s not Dream, I think we’re in the clear.”

He hit the button, and the door cranked open.

Dream lounged outside, axe propped up against his shoulder, lazily considering the sky. When he saw them, he laughed.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting on you guys for _ages_.”

-

Tommy stumbled back, mouth dropping open in horror, and Sam stepped forward - taking a tight grip on Fran’s collar as she growled.

“Hey there, Dream,” he replied, casually as he could manage.

“Sam. You’re looking better than the last time I saw you.”

“No thanks to you,” Sam said with a sarcastic little half-smile. Dream tilted his head.

“No - all thanks to Tommy, hm? Or at least, that’s what I’m assuming - considering how he’s here and not in his cell, like he ought to be. Hey, Tommy! How’s it feel to be a free man once more? Got to be pretty cool, huh?” Dream leaned to the side, peering around Sam to get a better look at the child.

Sam heard Tommy take a deep, steadying breath, before he stepped up to Sam’s side.

“It _is_ pretty nice, yeah. Sam’s a great guy - realized that what you were doing was wrong, and helped me out. _Has_ been helping me out,” he corrected.

Dream tilted his head. “That so? ‘ _Realized that what you were doing was wrong_ ,’ - that’s interesting, _I_ thought it was because I beat him up so bad.” He seemed to dismiss the thought with a shrug . “What do I know, I guess - I mean, after all, you’re such a _nice_ and _kind_ kid, I’m sure that anybody would want to help you.”

“He is,” Sam interjected, as Tommy faltered. “He _is_ a nice kid. Which is why you should leave him alone.”

“Oh shut up, Sam,” Dream rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah - you’ve taken his side now, I get it. You’re next in line to throw your body in front of TommyInnit, to pay penance for his actions - whatever. You’ll die eventually. Then it’ll just be Tommy ’n me again - isn’t that right?” The last part was clearly directed to Tommy, who had paled.

“It’s not like that,” Tommy said.

“It isn’t? Sam, how’s your back feeling?” Dream asked innocently.

Sam shifted as Tommy looked at him, stricken, and the Hunter continued. “Remember the conversation we were having just before that all went down? You didn’t tell Tommy, did you - I only attacked when I realized you’d taken his side. Yeah,” Dream continued as Tommy looked at Sam, wide-eyed, “Years of friendship down the drain, and for what? This _child_ who’d just as soon abandon you - who'd shove you off the cliff and steal your things, all for a laugh?”

“I’m not like that anymore,” Tommy said mutinously.

“Oh yeah? So you’ve finally grown up, then - ‘cause you _finally_ had to face some consequences for your actions.” Dream tilted his head. “I’ll take my thanks for that any day now.”

“Shut _up_ , Dream.”

“You can’t protect him from the truth, Sam. He’s hid behind other people his whole life, it’s time he finally - “

“I said shut _up_.” He was really reaching the limit of his patience. There was a stirring noise from within the base, behind them. Tommy edged away at his side.

“Sam - uh, big man. You’re eyes, they’ve gone all white again - “

There was a whispering noise inside his head. It felt like the shadows were intensifying.

“What the hell?” Dream said, and Sam couldn’t really focus enough to pay attention to it. He felt like he was vibrating - like a red film had been super-imposed over the world.

“Sam? You’re not doing this shit with the shadows, are you?” Tommy asked, and put a hand on his arm.

It penetrated the haze somewhat. Sam blinked.

“What?”

“The shadows - they’re like, moving. Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Sam said.

“You’re doing _something_ ,” Dream disagreed. Then he pulled the axe from his back. “And I am starting to think that it might be better to just kill you before you finish whatever it is. _Actually_ kill you, this time.”

“Oh, _finally_ ,” a young, familiar voice piped. The writhing void that had been hovering at the edges of the base coalesced into the figure of a boy - pale, short, with messy dark hair and little nubs of horns sticking out of it. “I’ve found you and you’ve drawn your weapon. That took _ages_ \- and you thought _you_ had to wait for a while just for them to come out here!” The boy’s arm disintegrated into that same black mist - when it reformed, there was an enchanted Netherite axe clasped in his hand.

Sam breathed in sharply, shocked - and then immediately looked to Tommy, who’d gone pale.

“Tubbo,” Dream said, drawing the name out. “Hey. I was wondering if you’d come back.”

“I did, I did.” Tubbo gave the axe a flip and took a step forward. Dream adjusted his stance into something more battle-ready. “I’ve been trying to find you and sort our unfinished business, but you’re so _evasive_ \- it's really been giving me a hard time.”

Dream chuckled. “I'm sorry to hear that."

At Sam’s side, Tommy said quietly, “Tubbo?”

Tubbo paused, head turning slightly in their direction.

Dream shifted.

“I have to say, Tubbo, I’m quite surprised - I thought if you cropped back up it would be at Tommy’s side. Don’t like him anymore, or something like that? Tired of him? He did lead you to your death, after all.”

“You’re _still_ full of shit,” Tubbo sighed. “God. And here I thought being dead would make me more patient - it _really_ didn’t. Tommy, you should get moving.”

“What? What - no, I'm not leaving. I just found you again, _”_ Tommy said. His voice fractured, and he pushed through it impatiently. "I thought you were gone forever."

“I know, I know. It’s a whole thing. It’ll be fine - I’ll see you later.”

Tommy stared at his friend’s flickering, phantasmal form. “That’s what you said last time, and look where we are now.”

Tubbo faced them and smiled. The expression was at odds with the glassy, lifeless quality of his eyes. “I mean, we’re seeing each other now, aren’t we? Just took me a bit.”

Tommy sniffed, fending off tears, and huffed a laugh. “That’s a _stupid_ fucking technicality, and you know it.”

Tubbo shrugged. “Whatever. Go on - he can’t exactly kill a ghost, can he?”

“You’d be surprised,” Dream said, and with that lunged into battle.

-

Tommy seemed to be still frozen, but Tubbo was right - they needed to get out of there. Sam tugged on Tommy’s arm, and went to take a step away - but tripped and nearly fell over. Tommy caught him nearly automatically.

“Woah - you alright?”

“Yeah, there’s just something around my - “ Sam looked down and flinched as he realized what had snared him.

Tendrils of vines had begun creeping through the base, clearly crawling in his direction. Even as he tugged away, another one reached to grab a hold around his ankle.

Tommy reared back and chopped it off with the sword Sam’d given him.

Sam winced at the sound of its dying screams. “That’s new," he said, kicking the shrivelled tendril away from him with a grimace.

“I told you that you were doing some shit. Can you move them around, now?”

“I don’t know - I was just so mad at Dream, and then my head felt like it was buzzing.”

Another tendril crawled forward, and Sam stumbled back before it could grab him. This unfortunately drove him in the direction of the battle, which was happening just outside the entrance.

“Let’s just pearl,” Sam said, shoving an ender pearl into Tommy’s hands. “You remember where the portal is?”

“Yeah, of course. But I don’t…” Tommy sent another glance in Tubbo’s direction, as Dream’s sword cut him in half, right through the middle. His figure destabilized for a moment, dissolving into that black mist, before righting itself. Tubbo was already moving into a lunge as he recoalesced; Dream swore and dropped to the ground to avoid the blade of the now very-material axe streaking towards his neck.

“He’ll find us again, I’m sure.”

“I can’t just _leave_ him, Sam.”

“He'll be fine - and he's buying us some time.”

“I know, but…” Another glance between Tubbo and Sam. The look on his face was heartbreaking. Sam grabbed him by the shoulder.

“I’ll help you - I’ll help you find him again. It’ll all be ok.”

“Alright.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Alright,” he said again, and drew away, readying to throw the ender pearl. “I’ll see you at the portal?” He asked, and Sam nodded.

Tommy flashed away, and Sam looked between the vines and the literal life-and-death battle happening before him. He sighed and flung his own pearl in the direction of the woods - taking care to grab Fran in a bear-hug before the pearl made contact - before vanishing as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looots of moving parts this chapter. hope i got them all worked out to everybody's satisfaction - quite anxious about this one, ngl.
> 
> i was thinking about cutting this chapter at 4k and leaving all the heavy lifting (plot-wise) for chapter six - but that would've meant that i ended on them walking out and seeing Dream, and i didn't wanna upset y'all with the no-tubbo-but-cliffhanger yet again lol. so here we are :thumbsup:
> 
> tubbghost, tubbhost, ghostbo, phantubbo, _tubton_ , whatever you wanna call him - i'm gonna explore his character more coming up, so don't panic! short of it is that i have Some Thoughts about the dsmp ghostification mechanic :)
> 
> also, have i mentioned how difficult it is to keep track of dreamsmp canon? 'cause it really is. i didn't even realize that tubbo and sam used to have a base together until i was watching an unrelated clip compilation as like, character research for this fic lol. *head in hands* i've been watching this stuff for months and every day i still learn something new...


	6. Chapter 6

An interesting bit of company awaited them at the dock which would take them back to the main Nether hub.

Ant and Bad stood to one side; Technoblade was scowling, arms folded and irritation plain on his face, on the other. Neither side seemed primed to leap into a fight, which was good - or bad, depending on what they were actually saying.

From the way that Tommy tensed at Sam’s side, already wound up and angry from their confrontation with Dream, that peace might not be lasting long. Sam placed a hand lightly on Tommy’s elbow as the two other parties noticed them, and they all came to a halt.

“Sam,” Bad said, smiling. “Glad to see you’re doing well. We were worried about you.”

“That so?” He said disbelievingly.

Tommy leaned in, his body a line of tension. “Come here with Dream?”

“What?” Bad asked, scrunching up his face in confusion. “No. I mean, we _followed_ him here, sure, but we’ve been doing that for a couple of days now - to make sure that he doesn’t try and destroy anything important while our backs our turned.” The demon’s posture relaxed as he hit his stride. “It’s really easy, actually. One of us just sticks near him while the other one trails, and when he notices the person who’s following they just run off until he gets bored and stops chasing, while the other person takes their place. It’s something we’ve done a lot in Manhunts - “

“Bad was just tellin’ me that they’ve been unsuccessful in convertin’ Dream to their religion - and that they were wantin’ to talk with you, Sam,” Techno cut in, seemingly minimal patience already exhausted. “I was askin’ if you particularly _wanted_ to meet with ‘em.”

“And _I_ was telling Mr. _Technoblade_ that we’ve got some interesting topics to discuss - things that you might’ve started noticing. Your back’s doing alright, isn’t it, Sam?” Bad’s wide smile hadn’t flickered at Technoblade’s interruption, and it didn’t flicker now, even with his seemingly abrupt shift in topic.

“What do you want to know about Sam’s back?” Tommy interjected. He’d stepped forward a bit - in front of Sam, as if to protect him. “We found that weird-ass vine that you put on it - and pulled it off, and healed it. So if you were thinking about doing any _weird_ shit, then you’d better - “

“Vine? What vine?” Bad asked, eyes widening innocently. “We don’t know anything about a vine - do we, Ant?”

Ant smiled as well and tipped his head to indicate the negative. Tommy bristled.

“Fucking idiot, you know all about that goddamn vine, don’t try and fucking bullshit me - “

“ _Language_!” Bad exclaimed, finding it in himself to be scandalized despite the relative tension of the meeting.

“Alright,” Sam said, stepping forward to intervene. “Alright. I think that’s… enough of that. Bad, you have something to tell me?”

“Something I think you’ll be interested to hear,” the demon corrected with a modest shrug.

“He doesn’t want to hear any of your shit,” Tommy spat.

Sam pursed his lips. “Actually, I might.”

“What?” Tommy rounded on him, eyebrows coming together in an amalgamation of confusion, anger, and distress. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t know - it just occurs to me that we don’t know much about what is happening,” he said quietly, privately. Louder, he called to Bad, “And I have your word that this will be a safe, _non_ - _violent_ conversation? Dream is just on our tail, and we’ve got to get moving.”

“Oh, sure,” Bad said easily, waving a hand. “And we were just on our way to make sure he doesn’t get up to any… mischief. It’ll be quick. You might want to send these two on their way, though - if you’re _concerned_ , that is. I think it will make the conversation go a little quicker.”

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating,” Tommy interjected.

Sam snorted a little, despite himself. Techno rolled his eyes.

“I can take the child back to my place, if everybody’s in such a hurry. Sam, I assume you can handle yourself.”

“No - I don’t want to go back with Techno,” Tommy said, digging his heels in stubbornly. He turned to Sam. “I’m not leaving you here. You said we’d - you said you’d help me.”

“I will, I will. Trust me, Tommy - I just need to find out what they know. I’ll be right after you.”

Tommy chewed on his lip nervously. “I don’t like it.”

“I know, but really - it’ll be fine. I’ll see you later. Be good to Techno, hm? Make me proud.” Sam shifted to block the other group’s view as he spoke, pitching his voice so that only Tommy would hear.

“Don’t fucking condescend to me,” Tommy muttered, but after another anxious moment of bouncing on the tips of his toes, he relented. “Alright. Fuck.” He turned. “Techno, let’s get going, I guess.”

“If _that’s_ all done with, sure,” Techno tossed back. He strolled over.

Techno and Tommy walked past Ant and Bad, both parties eyeing each other cautiously - until Tommy broke formation and suddenly stepped into Bad’s personal space.

“But if you’re evil now,” he said, peering up under Bad’s hood and into the demon’s unsettling white eyes, “Surely you can swear. Say, uh… say _pussy_.”

“Tommy,” Bad rolled his eyes, even as Techno grabbed Tommy’s elbow to drag him away.

“No, I’m serious!” Tommy continued, shaking Techno off. “Just say it the once! Come on, don’t you want to? You’re on your whole villain arc and can’t even say the _p-word_ ,” He pitched his voice to be more nasal in mocking imitation.

“Tommy,” Sam said, taking a step forward, and Tommy relented with his hands raised in a protestation of innocence.

“Alright, but - what about _fuck_. C’mon, just say fuck, just _once_ \- for old times sake.”

“No. _Goodbye_ , Tommy.”

“Whatever,” Tommy rolled his eyes. “I’ll be seeing you, Sam,” he added with a meaningful look. Sam nodded as reassuringly as he could - and watched the two of them board a boat and whiz away into the haze of the Nether.

He relaxed, slightly - that was one less variable to account for. He turned back to Bad and Ant, now the subject of their undivided attention.

“Tommy… that’s an, _interesting_ choice of loyalties that you’ve taken. Wouldn’t have figured you to have a soft spot for a kid like that.”

Sam snorted, but wasn’t particularly amused. “Dream said something similar.”

“Well, he’s not _always_ wrong,” Bad shrugged. “Tell me - I’m curious. Why him?”

“Like I told Dream - he’s a good kid. He hasn’t deserved what’s happened to him - no kid would.”

“If any kid _would_ , it would be Tommy,” Bad said with a kind of sardonic humor.

Sam pursed his lips. “I wonder if you would still say that if you know the entirety of it.”

“I wonder that too. Are you gonna _tell_ me, or just be vague?”

“Tommy’s not what we’re here to talk about. The vine?” Sam prompted, and Bad shifted into what George had affectionately called his ‘shitty salesman’s persona’, once upon a time.

“Right. How did your visit to your base go, by the way? Did you notice our little present?”

“What, the metric ton of vines crawling through it? Yes, I noticed - it was a bit hard not to. Are we really going to pretend that you didn’t slip a vine onto my back?”

“It’s not pretending,” AntFrost finally chimed in. “I was just nearby - the vines do what they want.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Alright. Sure, whatever. That aside, I guess, yes - I noticed the vines. Now what the fuck is going on with them?”

Bad leaned forward, eyes shining. “What happened, particularly, Sam? Did they respond to you?” He brought his hands together with a beaming grin. “Tell me they responded to you,” he squealed.

“What do you mean by responded? That’s… more what I was wanting to ask you,” Sam replied slowly, brain working overtime to try and preemptively fill in the gaps in their conversation.

“Well, the Egg talks to you, right?” Bad asked, not pausing long enough for Sam to actually respond. “And as you grow accustomed to it, you can start to talk back - and it’ll listen! We left the vines for you because we thought you might have a tough time with Dream if we weren’t around to help - they _did_ help, right?”

“No. No, we got out by, uh, other means. So they _were_ moving because of me, then,” Sam said, slightly dazed as he started to fill in the gaps in their conversation.

“Ah! They did! I mean - yes, they were! Oh, that’s so exciting. We’ve finally got another friend for the cause, Ant!” Bad bounced with glee and shook AntFrost’s shoulder - who also smiled, leaning into the motion.

Sam shook his head.

“What? What, no, I’m not joining with you just cause you… in fact, I’d like you to fix this. Like, right now. I want the vine gone, I want it out of my body, I want it… no. Just, no.”

“Oh.” The bright grin faded slowly from Bad’s face. It was funny - the demon was always so cheery that Sam often forgot how imposing he could look when somber. Perhaps that was why he’d developed his cheerful persona in the first place - as a kind of defense mechanism, to put people at ease when around him.

He didn’t seem like he cared about putting Sam at ease anymore.

“Well that’s unfortunate,” Bad said slowly, glancing away as he chewed on the words. “It’s… _unfortunate_ that you feel that way. I can only hope that with a little time, you come to change your mind.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“We’ll just have to see, hm? As for the vines, you really don’t have to worry about it. It’s not like an _infection_ , or anything like that. Think of it more like, like a built in communicator. This way you can chat with the Egg whenever you want! Sounds great, right?!”

“Not particularly.”

“Well… hm. You may have to reconsider your position. If things go as we’ve been hoping, you’ll be seeing a lot more of the Egg - _everywhere_ in the server. Besides - don’t you wanna beat Dream?”

“What does beating Dream have to do with this?” Sam asked, thrown off by the abrupt shift in topic.

“The Egg can give you whatever you want,” Bad said, hooking his thumbs through the loops of his belt and leaning towards Sam like a friendly confidant. “Particularly power. You yourself might not be enough to defeat Dream - not anymore - but with the power of the Egg, and by using the vines, they can give you an edge in the fight. You can _win_ , Sam - you can keep Tommy safe! You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Sam said slowly. He shook his head, as if to shake off confusing thoughts. “So just to confirm - there’s no way I can stop… _communicating,_ with these things?”

Ant frowned, glancing at Bad. “Well, there’s - “

“No,” Bad cut in smoothly, planting an elbow in Ant’s ribs. Ant shifted slightly, but shut up. “No, there isn’t. You’re welcome.”

“I’m not feeling particularly grateful,” Sam said.

“That’ll change,” Bad replied, beatific smile firmly in place. “Don’t you worry, Sam - that’ll change.”

And with that they parted ways - Ant and Bad going through the portal after him to try and catch up with Dream, and Sam taking a boat across the ice bridge he’d constructed to get back to Techno’s. Sam eyed them cautiously as they passed each other - their last encounter firmly in mind - but it seemed that they were no longer concerned with capturing him. Ant didn’t even glance his way as they left, and Bad just shot him an unnervingly friendly wink.

Tommy and Techno were waiting by the portal for him when he reached it. Tommy visibly relaxed as he saw Sam approaching - taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, then laughing abashedly in response to something that Techno had muttered.

“This is as far as he would go,” Techno drawled in answer to Sam’s raised eyebrows. “Refused to actually go through until you got here.”

“Well here I am,” Sam said with a grim kind of smile. “Intact and breathing. You two alright as well?”

“We’re fine. What’d they say to you?” Tommy butt in, leaning into Sam’s space and squinting as if he could divine the truth just by staring hard enough.

“Little bit of this, little bit of that. Let’s discuss it when we get back to Techno’s.” Sam nudged Fran through the portal first, then stepped into it with Tommy. Techno waited until they’d made it through to follow, hand on the hilt of his sword and a careful eye on the Nether behind them.

They hurried back to the house. It was mid-afternoon now; after such an eventful day Sam found himself vaguely surprised that it wasn’t nighttime already.

Philza leaned against the railing of the landing as they trooped up, arms folded. He smiled, seeming wholly unsurprised to see Techno accompanying them.

“I thought you were just running some errands?” He shot Techno’s way teasingly.

“I was. Those errands just happened to be… close by,” Techno said evasively, stepping past him and openingthe door.

Phil’s grin broadened. “Uh huh.”

“Techno, that reminds me,” Sam interrupted suddenly as something occurred to him, following Techno inside. Fran trotted in with him - giving the room a cautious sniff before walking over to the fireplace and sprawling out. Phil and Tommy trailed after. “What were Bad and Ant saying to you?”

“Oh, you ran into them?” Phil asked, walking further into the room and leaning against one of the chairs.

Techno nodded. He seemed to be considering his words. “They were offering me power in exchange for joining their side. It was pretty clear that they didn’t understand me or my goals from the conversation - they kept offerin’ me an empire, sayin’ I could dismantle it once we were done destroyin’ all the other governments in the area. Didn’t seem to understand when I told ‘em that’s not how anarchism works.” He shrugged. “Then they invited me to go ’n visit their Egg, or whatever it is, sometime. I declined, on the basis of them bein' just super weird.”

“Is that what you actually said to them?” Tommy laughed with surprise. He sat as well - near Philza, and Sam didn’t miss the content little smile that played around Phil’s lips at the development.

Sam folded his arms as Techno kept talking.

“Not in so many words, but yeah. I’m not really one for politickin’.”

“Oh, you don’t say,” Tommy snorted. His face had settled into something a little darker than the casual teasing of before, and Sam (who was getting a sense for this kind of thing) interjected before the conversation could derail.

“I don’t know how much Tommy told you on the way back, Techno, but it seems that things are even more complicated than we thought,” Sam glanced at Philza as he talked, who was considering them all seriously.

“He told me a bit,” Techno said, as Tommy chimed in, “I told him about Tubbo.”

“Tubbo? Did Tubbo… put in an appearance?” Philza asked.

“His ghostly equivalent, yes,” Sam said.

“He fought off Dream for us,” Tommy added.

“Did he? That’s certainly a step up from what he’s been doing with Techno,” Phil said, raising his eyebrows.

“Mm,” Techno grunted. He tapped his foot as he thought. “I mean, we’ve been able to seem him gettin’ more powerful ’n such, and appearin’ more often. It’s not unexpected. What’s more surprising is that he stepped in to help you - I didn’t think he was so like his old self.”

“He did say something about - uh, about waiting for the opportunity, before they started fighting,” Sam said.

“He said that he’d been waiting ages to find Dream and for Dream to draw his weapon. He said it like - as if those were the requirements for something,” Tommy corrected.

Sam nodded. “Right. Techno, you said when he shows up, he always shoots at you with a crossbow?”

Techno nodded the affirmative. Sam hummed as he thought. “That’s interesting. He was using an axe today - it looked just like Dream’s.”

“It _was_ Dream’s,” Tommy corrected Sam again. His expression was unusually serious - and distant. “Trust me, I know what Dream’s axe looks like. It was the exact same.”

“Huh. I wonder,” Phil said, trailing off momentarily before snapping back to the conversation. “Tubbo appears and attacks two people - two people who killed him - using the weapons that they killed him with. And only when they’ve got their own weapons drawn.”

“So it’s a justice kind of thing, you think?” Techno said. “He’s avengin’ himself.”

“Maybe, maybe. You said he talked to you?”

“Yeah, he did. Seemed like Tubbo,” Tommy shrugged. “Or, that is - like Tubbo after, y’know, everything that’s happened.”

“Well maybe we’ll get to talk to him at some point and see if we can’t figure things out,” Phil said.

“Right,” Techno said.

There was a moment of silence in the cabin before Tommy turned to Sam. “And what about you, big guy? What did they say to you? Bad and Ant, that is.”

“Well,” Sam said slowly. “They said a lot of things. I guess I should start with - yeah, uh, the Egg really _was_ talking to me, and the vines really _were_ responding to me. Back at my base.”

“They _responded_ to you,” Techno repeated incredulously.

“Yeah. I, uh, I got really mad at Dream, and the vines started… moving. Bad confirmed that it was because of me. Seemed really excited about it.”

“Hm.” Phil’s mouth twisted. “Did they say it was related to your back injury?”

“Basically, yeah. Said that they didn’t plant the vine - that they ‘do what they want’, whatever that means.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Of course they wouldn’t say they put the vine on you.”

“Well let’s take a look at it, hm? You said you’d let me check it out once you got back, in any case.”

“I did say that.” Sam sat back against the table uneasily as Phil went to go retrieve what was, presumably, their healing kit. Techno stood as well but went upstairs, shedding his robe and various battle accoutrement as he did so. Tommy stayed with Sam in the main room, fidgeting slightly as they waited.

Phil came back soon enough, and Sam shed his shirt obligingly at the man’s instruction.

There were twin gasps behind him and Phil and Tommy peered at his back.

“Ah, fucking hell mate,” Phil muttered, close by. Sam couldn’t see what he was doing; there was no mirror nearby. It left him feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“What? What is it?” Sam asked.

“Your back’s all fucking red, Sam. What the hell?” Tommy responded, standing and moving closer to, presumably, get a better look. Sam resisted the urge to shift as the two of them examined skin he couldn’t see. “It’s like, spreading from the cut.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of something like that - when you told me my eyes turned white back at the base.” Sam twitched as Phil’s gentle hands brushed against the area around the wound. They were cold; he hadn’t realized how hot his skin was in comparison. “Bad told me I can’t get rid of it. I think there was something else - Ant started to say something - but Bad cut him off.”

  
“And you put a regeneration potion on it, when you initially treated it?”

“He drank one,” Tommy replied. “Burnt the shit out of him. I thought it was all done with.”

“It’s got to be something about the Egg,” Sam said. “Between these vines and what it’s done to Bad and Ant - and the fact I could hear it earlier.”

“You could _hear_ it? As in, it was _talking_ to you?”

“It was, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was saying. I wonder if that’s because the infection’s still setting in, or because the vines aren’t so strong as this Egg is. I’ve never actually seen it.” Sam felt oddly detached - like he ought to be panicking, but that part of himself had just shut down. It made everything else much easier to mange.

Phil was less philosophical about it. “That’s fucked up.”

“I thought it wasn’t so different from Techno’s voices - or, you know, the ones I hear sometimes,” Tommy volunteered.

“Yeah, but that’s not quite - well, if you didn’t used to hear voices, and now these, these _blood_ vines are talking to you and moving at your command, then yeah, it’s not quite the same.” Phil tapped a bottle behind him; Sam could hear the click of fingernails against glass. “I don’t know if we should try another potion on it, then.”

“It wasn’t a really good experience, last time. The potion burned the vine out of my back; if we could avoid doing that, I’d prefer it.”

“Oof. Yeah, I can imagine.” Phil hummed. “So you don’t know anything else about these vines? No weaknesses or anything?”

“Well, like I told you, they’ve pretty much taken over town. Only place I saw that they hadn’t managed to get into was Church Prime; they gave it a wide berth.”

“Maybe that’s it, then? Maybe the holy water or something could help. We should give it a run.”

“Only problem is the, you know, vines that I just mentioned, all around it.”

“We’ll figure that out. Techno,” Phil called. “Do you have any holy water?”

The sound of footsteps overhead, and Techno’s head filled the square of the ladder’s opening. “No. Why would I have something like that?”

“Just figured I’d ask. Alright. I suppose we’d better start planning an expedition to Church Prime. I suppose Ant and Bad will try and stop us?”

“If the holy water actually does anything, then I’d assume so. Otherwise they’ll probably just try and convert us - if we see them at all.” Sam accepted his shirt back from Phil and re-donned it gratefully.

“Mm, we’ll have to be careful. Wouldn’t wanna get zapped like you did.” Techno stared at Sam for a bit. Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

“Wanna duel?”

“What?”

Techno’s head retreated, and he slid down the ladder a moment later. He had his sword slung over his shoulder. “I asked if you wanna duel. Bad also mentioned when we were talkin’ that you were quite the fighter, back in the day. Before you started buildin’.”

Sam shrugged. “We messed around in our free time on the early days of the server. I got a lot of combat practice then - not so much anymore.”

“Well, no time like the present. So, again - wanna duel?”

“I guess,” Sam said slowly. His wound itched. He ignored it.

Phil had folded his arms, looking moderately disapproving, but said nothing. Tommy was glancing between them.

“I want to duel too,” he said.

Sam hesitated, and Techno said flatly, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to duel with you right now. I want to duel with Sam.”

“Well what if _I_ want to duel with Sam?”

“You can fight him after we’re done - if he agrees to it. I asked first, I get to go first.”

“I don’t think that’s fair - I didn’t realize we could just _ask_.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re used to just _takin_ ’ - “

“Holy fuck, are we on this again? Look, dipshit, I _do_ ask for things - and then people don’t give them to me, but I still need them, so yeah! I just _take_ them - “

“And you need a whole stack of golden apples when steak would’ve done just fine?”

“Yes, _actually_ \- “

“They’ll be at it for ages,” Phil murmured to Sam, a small, fond smile playing around his lips. “You know you don’t actually have to fight if you don’t want to. That cut on your back still looks pretty nasty - I imagine the potion spent itself up on mostly getting rid of the vine and didn’t actually do a great job of healing. That’s my best guess.”

“As good as any - and yeah, it’s not exactly comfortable, but… I dunno. How often am I gonna get the chance to practice against Technoblade? And he’s right - I’ve let myself get out of shape, and that’s only been to my disservice, recently. I’ll give it a shot.”

“Alright. Just keep in mind that you can back out whenever you want. We’re not going to push you into things you’re not comfortable with, here.”

“I appreciate that.” Sam smiled at Philza, and was a little struck by how the fondness in Phil’s expression didn’t flicker as he looked from the two squabbling to face Sam fully.

Sam coughed, feeling strange but not fully understanding why, and slid from the table.

“Alright, well, if we’re going to duel, we should probably go now - only going to get colder and darker as the day goes on.”

“That’s a good point - we need to get the two of you some cold weather gear,” Phil said, businesslike once more.

Tommy seemed irritated as Sam and Techno made to head outside - but he folded slightly as Sam shot him a grin, and smiled reluctantly back. He stood as well.

“Well if you’re not going to let me fight, I suppose I’ll go for a walk. Still got the adrenaline jitters from earlier.”

“Don’t go too far,” Techno said.

“I won’t,” Tommy replied, rolling his eyes. “But I can handle myself.”

“I would prefer the green boogeyman didn’t nab you. Rescue missions are so tedious,” Techno replied dryly, and Tommy laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He preceded them out the door with a dismissive wave of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know when you're riding a bike, and you're going up a hill, and you're just almost to the point where the hill evens out and you'll be able to coast - you know how that's also the point that's the most difficult? feels the most taxing?
> 
> that's what this chapter was to me, lol. hope y'all enjoy it - probably one more chapter to go before i can start coasting into the end plot :p 
> 
> on the plus side it’s snowy and i’ve been learning saria’s song on the ukulele, so life is good.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam stood across from Techno, sword drawn, and started to get the feeling that this might’ve been a bad idea.

Techno was twirling his own sword leisurely, looking at ease with it in hand in a way that he never was in conversation. It seemed like a natural extension of him; his posture languid and fluid in a way that only highlighted the tension in it all other times Sam had spoken with him.

“Ready to go?” Technoblade asked, moving into a starting position - and what could Sam do but nod in agreement?

He assumed his own ready position, and so the spar began.

-

Tommy stomped through the snow and wished that Techno had chosen any other biome than the arctic to relocate to - but the man loved the cold and seemed to exist to spite Tommy’s wishes, so it wasn’t such a surprise they’d ended up in a place like this once more.

Tommy liked the mountains, though. He liked the view they provided. He was working his way up the mountain behind Techno’s base now - right over what must be Ranboo’s home. This close he could see that it looked rather small and haphazard - shockingly similar, in fact, to his own former home back in L’Manberg.

The half-built house he and Ghostbur had started just across from Techno’s was still there. He didn’t know what to make of that, so he didn’t think about it too hard.

Sam and Techno had already started fighting below. Techno was kicking Sam’s ass, because of course he was - he was _the Blade_ , after all, it was pretty much the only thing he was good at, was kicking other people’s asses. And being annoying. He was also very good at that, too.

And mining things. Goodness, they all had the same number of hours in the day, but Techno always managed to be so _prepared_.

Tommy shook his head in irritation, trying once more to put Technoblade from his mind. There was too much going on today to get caught up in his thoughts about that… that _loser_.

He found a seat on an old, abandoned stump on the mountainside and looked down on the little valley that Techno had claimed for himself, watching the minute figures of Techno and Sam going at it. It was only mid-afternoon, but the sun already brushed against the peaks of the mountains in the distance. It would be getting dark soon; the artificial kind of dark you got in mountain valleys.

He closed his eyes, taking in the sun after what had felt like ages of sitting in a dark obsidian cell - and when he opened them again, Tubbo was there.

Or, that is to say - the closest approximation to Tubbo he’d get, after his best friend’s death.

“Hey Tommy,” the ghost of Tubbo said with a half-smile, and Tommy could already feel the emotion he’d been struggling against all day welling up in his throat once more.

-

“So why’d you give up fightin’?” Technoblade asked, casually as anything, as if his sword hadn’t just bashed against Sam’s shield in a narrow save, the third occurrence of which without Sam able to offer any significant counterattack. Sam thrust back, but Techno was already dancing out of the way - the real trick here was the snow, which hampered Sam’s movements but Techno navigated with ease.

“Didn’t really give it up so much as took up other things,” Sam said back, struggling to breathe, speak, and fight all at the same time. “Wasn’t a lot of fighting to be done - not like before.”

“We livin’ on the same server?” Techno asked with a kind of humorous asperity. “Plenty of fightin’ to be done - everywhere, all the time.”

Sam shrugged, turning the motion into a roll of his shoulders as his back twinged with the unusual stress. “Oh, well sure, but none of that was really my battle to fight. It was all other people’s stuff - I just wanted to build.”

“And you don’t got your own battles? Nothin’ to fight for?” Techno asked, eyebrows coming together. They were circling each other, a few paces apart - Techno faked a lunge and Sam fell for it, swinging his shield to the left. Techno punished his mistake with a light tap against his right side, using only the flat of the blade.

“Hit,” Techno grunted. Sam nodded in acknowledgment and they separated, settling into their ready positions once more.

“It’s not like that,” Sam said, watching Techno warily as he waited for the other man’s opening moves. “I’ve got things to fight for.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Techno took a step forward, and Sam took a step back and to the side, that Techno might not trap him against the side of the house. They began circling once more.

“Well, like - I guess it used to be my friends, though I don’t really see them so much anymore. And Dream went crazy, and George and Sapnap felt super betrayed by that and disappeared, so I guess I don’t really know how much we’re all friends still. Uh, then it was the Prison - getting ready to defend it from anybody who wanted to break prisoners out of it. But then I ended up freeing the only prisoner inside it myself - so, Tommy now, I suppose.”

Techno lunged in for a strike, and Sam parried it, pivoting to kick out with his leg - but Techno just used his momentum to step past Sam, disengaging his blade and driving his elbow against Sam’s back lightning quick. It hit the inflamed area around Sam’s wound, and the pain was immediate and blinding - Sam went to his knees in the snow.

When he recovered enough to look up, Techno was still standing there, looking down at him. His expression was unapologetic andunsympathetic.

“That wound’s a big liability - better get it dealt with soon.”

“We’re working on it,” Sam gritted out and stood back up, reclaiming his sword and brushing the snow off its hilt with cold, burning hands.

Techno slouched as he waited. “So you’ve made Tommy your new cause. How long’s that supposed to last? Not filling me with confidence about your commitment, here.”

“What, should I be like you, then? Cause before all else, before relationships and loyalties? Before peoples’ lives and homes? I’m looking to build things, Techno - not just destroy them.” Sam readied up, and Techno mirrored the motion. "I'll stick with Tommy long as he needs me to."

Sam didn’t wait this time but immediately struck out, looking to see what Techno would do if put on the defensive. Unfortunately the other man didn’t seem daunted - he dodged by dancing back, light on his feet as ever and expression emotionless.

“That’s a cute little thought, but destruction’s necessary for any form of growth. Can’t keep buildin’ on the decayin’ corpse of the past, or it’ll give out under you one day - gotta burn things away to start new.”

“Have you seen the crater where L’Manberg is? I thought you said you wanted to make it into a hole so big nobody would ever establish a government there again - and if that’s so, you’ve succeeded. It’s a wasteland now. It was _wasteful_.”

“I gave ‘em a warnin’. Besides, I'd _retired_ \- they were the ones that came ’n tried to execute me. It was only justice.”

“That seems like a false equivalence, to me.”

“If I concerned myself all day with what other people think of what I do, I’d be paralyzed into uselessness - which is why I don’t bother with it.” Techno jabbed at him and Sam nearly fell over in his attempt to dodge it. Techno was on him again, lightning quick, trying to use the lapse to end the fight – but Sam was getting a feel for his techniques and already had his shield up to block the blow. There was a thunk of metal against wood, and Sam lashed out immediately after – but Techno was already gone again. Learning familiarity with another’s fighting style was a two-way street, after all.

“I’m not useless,” Sam said.

“Oh no, far from it,” Techno snorted. “Which is the most annoyin’ bit. You’re smart, you’re capable, you’re a good fighter – but you’ve resigned yourself to a two-bit part in this drama we’ve all got playin’ out. It took weeks of Tommy bein’ a sad kicked puppy in your Prison for you to even _consider_ goin’ against Dream – and you got wounded almost immediately after. Showed up on our doorstep hopin’ to get us to do what you couldn’t. Why d’you wanna be a supportin’ character so bad, Sam? ‘Tween Tommy, Dream, ‘n the Egg, even Phil ‘n me, y’got all these competin’ interests – what’s yours, _Warden_?”

-

“Hey, Tommy,” Tubbo said, and between the sun and the view it could’ve been another time entirely, laughter and music hovering around them as they considered a new world of possibilities.

“Hey Tubbo,” Tommy said, clearing his throat as it stuck. He took a deep breath, and said casually as he could, “How’re things?”

“Oh, you know. _Things_.” Tubbo shrugged dismissively. Tommy could almost ignore the way he didn’t quite touch the ground, but instead hovered a few centimeters above it. “Been figuring out how to be dead. It’s pretty cool, not gonna lie - can fly around, walk through walls ’n stuff. ’S got all these _rules_ , though, that I’ve been having to figure out.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Rules for fighting and flying and appearing and such. It makes me wonder a lot about Ghostbur - like, I know why _I’m_ back, so it makes me wonder what his reason was.” Tubbo hummed contemplatively. “I killed Sapnap the other week - that was pretty good.”

“Why?” Tommy asked, tilting his head in confusion as Tubbo turned to him. “I mean, not that I’m disapproving, it’s just… why this whole schtick?”

“Well, I mean, it’s why I came back, after all. All the people who killed me - us - still have all their lives. I’m just evening the score. Oh, speaking of which,” Tubbo did the thing he’d done earlier, where he destabilized and reformed, and when he was back there was a crossbow in his lap and a quiver across his back. He withdrew an arrow and cranked the crossbow to load it, setting it aside once the process was done. “Got to be ready for my opportunity, you know. Techno’s wily - I’m trying to wait until he’s distracted. From the looks of it today will be a good day for that - he’s really wailing on Sam.” Tubbo leaned forward, peering down at the fight below them with interest. “I’d better talk to him later - Sam, that is. I’ve missed him. He’s a good egg.”

“And, so, what happens once you’re done with that? Killing Techno, that is, and whoever else. Dream.” Tommy asked - with a sinking feeling he already knew the answer.

Tubbo looked at him with a degree of surprise. “I die for real, of course. I’ll be done.”

Tommy worked his jaw, looking away. Tubbo still watched him, the set of his face softening a fraction.

“I know it’s kind of weird for me to be back. Believe me, it wasn’t really what I thought would happen. But at least… I mean, at least this time it won’t be so violent. We’ll get to say goodbye better.”

It was too much.

“I don’t _want_ to have to say goodbye, Tubbo! We shouldn’t _have_ to! I mean, you’re talking about getting even, about _justice_ \- what’s _just_ about any of this?” Tommy exploded, leaping to his feet and leaning over Tubbo, gesturing wildly.

Tubbo stood as well, crossbow held loosely at his side.

“That’s not really any of _my_ concern. I’m just here to do what I want. I mean, Tommy, didn’t you tell me I’m not your sidekick? Not anymore? I seem to recall that conversation.” He smiled. It was a slightly bitter expression.

“You’re _not_ , Tubbo - you’re my friend. You’re my best friend. I can’t - I can’t let go of you again. I can’t do it. It nearly killed me, with Dream - it’s pretty damn difficult to kill yourself in the Prison, but I was trying to figure it out. I can’t just… watch you die again. I can’t do that.” Tommy had his fingers gnarled up in hair; he let his hands drop into a more pleading, supplicating position.

There was a long stretch of silence as Tubbo considered him. Then he reached out and pulled Tommy into a tight hug.

Tommy’s arms came up to hug Tubbo back almost reflexively, even as he stiffened in surprise. They weren’t particularly touchy people, him ’n Tubbo - well, they hadn’t been. Tubbo felt slightly wrong - there was a give to him where there shouldn't be, a lack of warmth, an almost misty quality. But Tubbo hummed in his ear, and that was so familiar, so right, that Tommy relaxed with it.

But then -

“You’re going to have to figure it out, Tommy,” Tubbo murmured. “‘Cause it’s what’s going to happen. At least you’ve got some advance warning this time.”

Tubbo let go, and Tommy didn’t move - frozen in shock. His best friend sighed and stretched, looking not at all affected by the course of their conversation - dropping out of the stretch as he noticed something below.

“Ooh - Ranboo! Looks like he’s finally getting home. I _do_ wonder where he gets off to during the day. He’s a sneaky one.” Tubbo tapped his lip in consideration, then bent and made a snowball. “Hey, watch this. Wonder if I can hit him from here.”

Tubbo drew back and fired, lobbing the snowball at Ranboo below them. It was a near thing - the snowball brushed the side of Ranboo’s crown and almost knocked it loose, but ultimately missed, splattering safely into the snow behind him. Ranboo stopped and looked up.

“Oh, hey Tommy,” he called, seeming mildly disgruntled but otherwise unaffected. “Didn’t see you there. Please don’t do that, alright? I’m not a huge fan of… water.” He didn’t wait for Tommy’s response - not that Tommy was about to offer one - and let himself into his house.

Tubbo laughed. “He’s ignoring me this week. Him ’n Technoblade have been trying to figure out what’s up with me; I think I must’ve ticked him off or something, because recently he’s pretending he can’t see me. Or at least, I _think_ he’s pretending - really a very sweet guy, but I can’t pretend he doesn’t have a few screws loose.” Tubbo twirled his finger by his temple light-heartedly.

Tommy blinked, and took a deep breath, and shuddered on the release.

“I don’t - don’t know if you’re in any position to be saying that, big man,” he finally managed. Tubbo waited on him patiently, then laughed when he’d finished.

“Neither are you. Or any of us. This server does _weird_ things to people. I’ll be glad to be outta here.” He seemed to remember himself and winced, glancing sidelong at Tommy. “Sorry, right, that was insensitive. I’ll, uh, give you time to… process.”

Tommy couldn’t say anything in reply.

-

Sam struggled to breathe. There was a shallow cut bleeding sluggishly on his leg - Techno had drawn it ‘by accident’, and they had both insisted on continuing when Phil had tried to intervene to heal it.

  
So instead Phil leaned against the railing outside the door and watched, arms folded disapprovingly, as Sam and Techno carried on.

“Your footwork is sloppy,” Techno said shortly, and Sam tried to adjust. The warrior seemed also short of breath, and that was at the very least a cold comfort - Sam felt like he was about to fall over.

“It’s the damn snow,” he panted. “Hard to move through.”

“If you can’t fight on snow, _don’t_ fight on snow. If you _have_ to fight on snow, then learn how to do it - don’t just whine.”

“Teach me, then,” Sam said acerbically. “Asshole,” he threw in for good measure.

Techno laughed in surprise, and Sam darted forward, hoping to exploit the momentary lapse. Techno parried, and Sam had to stumble away to avoid his counterattack.

“Yeah, yeah, soon enough. You done yet? Ready to give up?” Techno pushed forward, sending Sam on the defensive.

“Challenged me to a fight, and now you’re asking if I’m ready to give up - make up your mind.”

“I have. Concede.”

“Not likely. You’ve been talking too much trash for me to just give up now.”

“It’s not _trash-talking_ ,” Techno said with some frustration. “These are all valid questions. You’ve got to stand for something, Sam - it’s why you came here, after all, was because you know what Phil ’n me stand for, and so you knew you could rely on us. How’m I supposed to trust you if I don’t know what you _want_?”

“I told you,” Sam wheezed. “I don't know, besides what I’ve always wanted. My friends to be safe and happy. Peace to build in.”

“ _Which_ friends? You seem to have been through a few sets of ‘em.”

“Nice,” Sam said sarcastically, and Techno shrugged eloquently, turning the motion into a feint. Sam dodged, but it was close - he could feel the blade brush against the fabric of his shirt.

“Hit.”

“It was not.”

“Oh come on - any more of a hit and it would’ve actually cut you.”

“You already did that!”

“It was an _accident_.”

“Sure,” Sam said, rolling his eyes but obligingly stepped back into the ready position once more. Techno took a few steps back, to the other side of the trampled snowfield that constituted their arena.

“And ideally, _all_ of my sets of friends. To answer your question,” Sam added.

Techno frowned consideringly. “I guess the question there is will they _let_ you help them. They seem to have competin’ interests.”

“If you mean Dream and Tommy, then yeah. It’s not anything I’m unaware of.”

“Bad ’n Ant, too. Y’all were friends, right? The way they talked about you seemed pretty familiar.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “Yeah. I knew them.”

“You thinkin’ they’re beyond savin’?”

“I’m thinking that… that of all the people I know and love, that Tommy’s the only one I can easily help right now. The only one who deserves helping, I guess. I’ve tried with all the others, and it didn’t work out, but Tommy… he’s had it so hard, and maybe this time I can fix everything.”

“The same thing you’ve always wanted, but the only thing you keep failin’ to have. Sounds like a familiar story.” Techno snorted, but his eyes weren’t on Sam anymore. He was looking at the hillside behind Sam, where Ranboo’s house was situated - and something there startled him so much that he paused mid-swing, grip on his sword slackening.

  
Sam seized the opportunity.

He lunged forward, smacking the sword from Techno’s hand with his own, and use the momentum to carry them into a full-body tackle.

-

It took a moment, but Tommy _did_ find the words.

“I don’t want to process. I shouldn’t have to.”

“And like I said, it’s not up to you. It’s not _about_ you, Tommy. It’s about me, and what _I_ want - for once.” Tubbo was still smiling, but it didn't look friendly. In fact, the expression was almost foreign - still superimposed over it was Tubbo as Tommy had remembered him, who'd laughed loudly and wildly, who had loved bees and sunshine and who had joined him in his most stupid adventures.

Tommy flinched and tried to play it off. “And this is what you want?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m… yeah. This is want I want,” Tubbo trailed off, watching Sam and Techno once more. “Speaking of which.”

He levelled his crossbow and took aim.

Below, Technoblade was looking up at them - for only a moment before Sam took him down in a tackle. They fell into the snow, and there was a brief flurry, until it settled down once more - with Technoblade on top.

“There we go,” Tubbo said quietly. “There we are.”

The crossbow released with a crack that echoed across the valley.

-

Techno had been laughing as he managed to pin Sam - Sam hadn’t anticipated how the aggressive motion would aggravate his back and had given out midway through, groaning and falling back into the snow.

“Told you that you need to get that thing trea - " Techno cut off with a choke, slumping over and hissing in pain. He fell off of Sam, who straightened up and saw an arrow buried in Techno’s shoulder.

Sam looked behind them, to the mountainside, where the arrow must’ve come from. There was a small figure standing next to Tommy – Tubbo, Sam realized belatedly.

Tubbo waited until he saw Sam looking, then smiled and waved. With that, he vanished.

Techno pushed himself up with another pained wheeze.

“We’ve _got_ to get that figured out,” he hissed, and Sam huffed in agreement as Philza rushed over.

The sun brushed against the tips of the mountains, and the day turned golden-pink as sunset began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/17/21 - more content woooooooo! tried out a different format this time.
> 
> i went for a walk in the snow yesterday. it's difficult to get through - i'd liken it to trying to walk on loose sand. a strange little workout. very pretty, though.
> 
> thanks to everybody for the lovely comments - particularly @curseworm, who's been just so great about writing up these long analyses and generally boosting my ego - but really, everybody :D y'all are great.  
> \- and being added to collections! man, i lost my shit when i saw that. so cool. pogging irl lol
> 
> edit: y'all know late_august's animatics? they draw techno with a blindfold on - i assume in reference to techno being an arbiter of justice. y'know, since themis - the greek goddess of justice - was depicted with a blindfold and scales. like that.  
> well, it's not really the way i picture techno in this fic (with a blindfold, that is), but it's just _such_ a cool concept, 'cause of it's dual meaning.
> 
> techno is Just, as in guided by this rigid code of right and wrong, but techno is also Blind to the consequences of his actions, to how others might be right as well. then you've got tubbo and quackity, who've both been hurt by his relentless pursuit of Justice acting as foils;;;; ugh. so good.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam and Phil left early the next morning on a reconnaissance mission. Tommy and Techno had been left behind.

Techno had been barred from holding any weapons, for fear that Tubbo would get truly lucky the next time he put in an appearance. This had left Techno disgruntled and restless; he’d been brewing potions and milling about the cabin doing odd chores with a kind of aimless energy. Techno being on edge had left Tommy restless as well; eventually the boy got sick of the terse, snappish comments they’d been firing at each other and the anxious tension in the air, and had retired outside to the house he and Ghostbur had left unfinished.

He brushed the snow from a half-hung beam and took a seat on it, pulling the memory book from his bag. Sam had given it to him before leaving - “Not that I’m expecting anything to happen, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” he’d said, laughing awkwardly as Tommy’s already discontented expression had morphed into pure rebellion.

Sam had merely ruffled his hair and assured him once again everything would be alright - ignoring Tommy’s scowl and how the kid batted away his hands. The scouting duo had left soon after, preventing any further arguments.

It was a little strange reading through his book, now that he knew Tubbo wasn’t dead. Or, _was_ dead, was just… still around.

Tommy sighed. You’d think he would’ve figured this all out in his initial crisis over Ghostbur.

But yeah, especially just the parts about their initial days together on the server, about the Disk Wars. Tubbo had been genuinely angry with Tommy for burning his house down, Tommy remembered that - but they’d gotten over it, right? Tubbo had forgiven him.

And then there was the exile stuck between them like a splinter, like a raggedly torn nail. Something that was manageable most of the time, but then it would catch, and there would be a momentary pain, and you’d be reminded of it all over again.

So much baggage between them these days. And then Tubbo was _dead_ -

Well, at least he had an extra chance to make things right.

Those had been some of the darkest moments in the Prison - as he’d written his book of memories and thought about all the things they’d done together, all the things he’d meant to say but never got around to. The thought that he’d never be _able_ to say those things, now - that he’d lost his disks and lost his best friend in the process, that he’d truly lost _everything_ except his memories, and when he inevitably died those would be lost too -

Well, it was enough to drive anybody over the edge.

But that wasn’t the case anymore! That wasn’t the case. He had Tubbo back (in a fashion), and he had Sam now,and maybe once this Egg business was done with they’d be able to stick it to Dream once and for all.

And, and - and things would be different, this time around.

He’d make sure of it.

He was still idly flipping through the pages of his book of memories - laughing at some, sobering at others - when the crunch of snow announced someone else’s arrival.

It wasn’t Technoblade - he hadn’t heard the door. Tommy looked up.

Ranboo was bending under one of the beams - nearly folded in half, almost comically tall - and staring at him, wide-eyed in surprise.

“Oh, hi Tommy,” the hybrid said after a beat. “I, uh, didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“Why not?” Tommy asked rudely, not really appreciating the interruption.

“Why not? Oh, uh - I dunno. I guess I just don’t ever see anybody in here, so it’s just a surprise to see… somebody.” Ranboo winced as his awkward explanation trailed off. He wasn’t looking at Tommy, but rather at a point just beyond his shoulder; Tommy glanced behind himself, but there was only the wall.

Tommy turned back and stared at Ranboo a while longer, until the hybrid started shifting nervously. Then Tommy shrugged and relented. “Well, I did _build_ this place, so I don’t see why I _wouldn’t_ come out here. Y’know, every once in a while.”

“Oh, did you? Yeah, I asked Techno about this… structure… when I moved here, but he just grunted something about terrible architectural taste - and he seemed irritated, so I didn’t want to bother him about it.” Ranboo moved further into the room, leaning against another one of the beams they’d never finished hanging.

Tommy wondered what about his personal demeanor had seemed to invite conversation, and how he might fix that. “Techno’s an idiot. And an asshole. Never listen to him, ever.”

“I, uh, don’t know about that,” Ranboo’s strained smile looked more like a wince. Tommy shifted on the beam, ready to drag the thing out into an argument, but before he could Ranboo changed the subject. “Whatcha got there?”

Tommy drummed his fingers on the cover of the book. “None of your business.”

“Oh. Ok.” Ranboo glanced away, back out into the bright sunshine. He looked like he really regretted engaging Tommy in the first place.

Tommy sighed. Whatever.

“It’s a book of… of all of my memories with Tubbo. I wrote it before I knew he’d come back as a ghost, or whatever. Was wondering what to do with it now.”

Ranboo’s head whipped back to face him, and the hybrid blinked at him owlishly. “It’s a _memory_ book?” He said - in such a tone and with such surprise that Tommy got the impression there was something he might be missing.

“I… guess? It’s a book I wrote my memories down in, yeah. Sure.”

“Wow. I never thought that _you_ of all people…” Ranboo’s brain seemed to catch up with his mouth, which clicked shut. He cringed slightly.

Tommy scowled. “I of all people _what_?”

“Uh, sorry, that came out wrong.” Ranboo raised his hands defensively as Tommy’s scowl deepened. “I dunno, you just always seem so confident, I guess. So sure of everything. I didn’t think you’d… well, let me just,” Ranboo pulled an ender chest from his bag, placed it, and from the ender chest produced a book of his own. He held it up to Tommy - but stayed far enough away that Tommy couldn’t grab it.

“I’ve got my own memory book - uh, kind of. That was just why I was so surprised. Haven’t really met anybody else who… likes to write things down. To help remember them. I guess.”

“Well.” Tommy’s scowl eased, and he slouched as he let go of his potential indignation. Ranboo took this as his cue to relax as well - and he did it with his whole body, shoulders slumping, breath releasing in a heavy sigh, spine curving.

Tommy resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He wasn’t _that_ intimidating, for God’s sake.

“It’s not to help me remember,” he tacked on, finally processing what Ranboo had actually said. “It’s for everybody else. Or, like, anybody who cares, I guess. Just occurred to me when I was in prison that with Tubbo dead ’n me locked away forever, there wouldn’t be anybody to remember us. Or, well, remember us as we really are - _were_ , I suppose. That’s what this is for.” He wiggled the book at Ranboo. “But it’s not quite accurate anymore. Tubbo’s different. I’m different. So again, I’m… wondering what to do with it.”

“Well,” Ranboo said slowly, glancing at the ceiling as he thought out his words. “I am… not great, about remembering stuff. But you could always tell me. Then there’d be at least one other person who can… who can remember you for what you are. And we can go from there.”

Tommy examined him, eyes narrowed. Ranboo shifted.

“Are we friends, Ranboo?” He asked abruptly.

Ranboo frowned and nodded. “I’d like to think we are.”

“Alright. Alright, then - yeah. Yeah. Let’s uh - let’s talk about Tubbo, some.”

Tommy was grateful for the distraction of the book; it let him look down and away from the too-understanding expression on Ranboo’s face.

-

Talking with Ranboo was better than he’d expected. The hybrid had a way of making things easy; quiet and attentive during the most difficult bits, laughing and participative during the easy ones. It helped the time pass quickly - hours fell away and Tommy forgot about his tension with Techno, about his anxiety over Sam going into town.

Eventually Ranboo straightened, though, and rolled his neck. “Ah, man. We really picked a bad spot to talk for a while, huh? Should’ve gone to to a place with - with _chairs_.” He laughed. It didn’t have the awkward quality of before - as Tommy had relaxed around Ranboo, so Ranboo had relaxed with Tommy.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly expect to be talking with you,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. Ranboo took it as the joke it was intended to be and grinned.

“We’ll do it somewhere better next time. My place, maybe? Though I do only have _one_ chair… I guess I would need to fix that.”

Tommy stared at him for a moment, then blinked and looked away. “Yeah. Sounds good. Uh - looking forward to it, big man.”

“Yeah! I am too.” Ranboo’s grin morphed into a more genuine smile. The hybrid made to stand, but Tommy held up a hand to forestall him.

“Hey, uh, Ranboo - by the way, you _can_ see Tubbo, right? He said yesterday that you were ignoring him, so I… just wanted to make sure.”

“Ghost-Tubbo? Oh yeah, I can see him just fine. He’s annoying,” Ranboo rolled his eyes, a surprisingly dry expression on somebody who had been all smiles moments before. “With the snowballs and all that. And then he likes to hang out around my place sometimes - when Techno’s practicing or something but Tubbo’s bored of trying to kill him. Likes to get into my things and pester me - so I’ve been jokingly ignoring him. Why? Did he say something?”

“Yeah. Said you were crazy.”

Ranboo snorted, which developed into full-blown laughter as the two of them stood and walked out into the sunshine. “Oh, he’s one to talk,” he finally managed. “What a… what a gremlin.”

Ranboo was able to stretch more outside - his head had brushed the ceiling of the half-built cabin, so he’d had to stoop constantly - and he did so next to Tommy.

“Oh, man,” he continued. “I gotta - well… I don’t actually remember what I gotta do today. But I should probably go do it.”

“Yeah. I’m rather at loose ends right now, myself, waiting for Phil and Sam to get back.”

“Get back from where?”

“From - uh, from… things. Things that are technically secret, I have just now realized.”

Ranboo snorted. “Yeah, ok. I get that. Phil and Techno get up to all sorts of things I’m not supposed to know about, so I guess that’s not surprising. Looks like you won’t have to wait too much longer, though - isn’t that Phil?”

Tommy turned and squinted against the harsh glare of the snow. There was a small figure on the horizon. “I mean - maybe? That’s not right, though - there should be two.”

“That definitely looks like Phil,” Ranboo said dubiously. He squinted as well. “Though something doesn’t look quite right. Is he... _limping_?”

They looked at each other. Tommy’s blood ran cold.

“Techno!” He called, voice picking up volume as his legs started moving. He heard the door open as he began running, heard Techno say something and Ranboo reply - but he was already peeling across the field. The snow soaked his trousers and froze his legs - he barely noticed.

As he got closer he could see it was indeed Philza, and he was indeed limping. Blood spattered his robes and matted his hair - he was clutching his arm, where a ragged bit of fabric had been ripped from his sleeve and wrapped around what must’ve been a cut. Tommy skidded to a halt at his side.

“Phil, Phil, what - “ Tommy caught Phil by the elbow as the man listed to the side.

“Oh, goodness. Sorry. Blood loss - my sense of balance is getting rather… shot.” Phil sagged into Tommy, who fortunately had the height to support him.

“What _happened_ to you? Where’s Sam? Was it Dream? He’s not - he’s not dead, right? He’s not on his last life - he’d be back here if that was the case. Where’d he - “

“Tommy,” Phil said thickly, and Tommy shut his mouth - though his brain continued running panicked circles, hundred kilometers an hour.

The sound of heavy footsteps pounding across the snow heralded what, Tommy assumed, was Technoblade’s impending arrival. Tommy had his eyes on their feet, carefully navigating the snow and ice so that Phil wouldn’t trip.

“It was Bad and Ant,” Phil said, speaking slowly and measuredly even as his voice was strained with pain. “He’s alive - they’ve got him trapped. I tried to fight them to get him out, but I only have the one life, and they had the jump on us - I had to run.”

Techno arrived at their side, breathing heavily and quickly pulling Phil off of Tommy’s shoulder and onto his own. Techno was much stronger than Tommy, so this way the process went much more quickly - and Tommy could finally take his eyes off the ground.

He looked around. Ranboo had vanished.

Technoblade looked more worried than Tommy had ever seen the man, but unlike Tommy he didn’t say anything - just half-escorted, half-dragged Phil back to the house as quickly as he could. His lips were white, pressed thin as they were.

Phil laughed, then coughed as something caught in his airway. “I’m not dying, Techno. Popped a regeneration potion in the Nether. Just forgot my gapples in my ender chest, is all.”

“Of course you did. Just _had_ to go poking around town without me, and then of _course_ you - “ Techno cut himself off with a shake of his head. He looked pissed. Phil watched him, grin faltering slightly - then stumbled and winced as his leg banged against a rock that had been hidden under the snow. Tommy and Techno caught him at the same time.

“Seems like the blood’s goin’ out quicker than the regen pot can replace it,” Phil joked as he straightened again.

“Ranboo is getting the healing supplies set up in the house,” was all Techno said in reply. When they started moving again, though, they went much more slowly and carefully.

Tommy was nearly vibrating out of his skin. When they reached the stairs, he reached the end of his patience.

“Phil. Tell me where Sam is,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet at the bottom of the stairs as Techno and Phil climbed up them.

The two of them paused and turned to look at him - Techno raising his eyebrows skeptically, Phil’s lips pursing in a mix of regret and resignation. Tommy could tell what he was about to say.

“Don’t fucking tell me I can’t do anything - tell me where he is. I’m going to go get him. Who goddamn knows what’s happening to him right now, if those - those fucking _cultists_ have him.”

“Tommy, you’re on your last life. We’ll save Sam, I just need to - “

“You’re not going anywhere near that town until you’re healed up,” Techno interrupted. “ _I’ll_ go with Tommy and get Sam, once we’ve got you settled in the house.”

“Now’s not the motherfucking time to debate! Phil, just - just tell me where he _is_!” Tommy jumped up the steps, stopping just below Phil and grabbing the front of his robes. In his urgency he didn’t account for the other man’s injuries - Phil stumbled and nearly fell down the steps. Techno shoved Tommy away, and Tommy lost his balance, _actually_ falling down the steps instead - landing on his ass in the snow. He blinked up at the two of them, a little stunned - and Techno, too, looked taken aback, like he hadn’t actually meant to do that.

But Sam was - was gone. There was no time for feelings, for negotiations and such at a time like this. Tommy’s hand went to the sword strapped to his back, and Techno’s expression shuttered as he drew his own - and then Tubbo was standing in front of Tommy, faster than he’d ever appeared before, crossbow brandished like it was an adequate defense against a sword and snarling, “Don’t you fucking touch him!”

Ranboo was leaning out the door peering at all of them nervously, and Phil -

Phil collapsed, dropping to the steps in a dead faint. Neither Techno nor Ranboo could catch him in time - his head bounced off the railing as he dropped, like a puppet with its strings cut.

It quite put a halt in the proceedings.

-

They all trooped inside, a bristling mess of tension and malintention - with the exception of Ranboo, who had already sorted out an array of golden apples and healing potions, and was instead tutting to himself as he administered them in a way that was probably meant to be quiet and unobtrustive, were the cabin not filled with the dead quiet of people very ready to murder each other.

Phil came to a minute after they’d laid him out on the couch, and groaned loudly as the state of his body presumably made itself known to him. The tension went out of Techno with the noise.

“Alright. Tommy,” Techno said, as Phil’s hand flew to cover his eyes. Ranboo bent over him and started murmuring quietly. “I am more than happy to help you - but you need to get yourself under _control_.”

“I _am_ under goddamn _control_ ,” Tommy snapped. “It’s you dipshits who’re playing around, while Sam has God-knows-what happening to him. Christ, it’s fucking Phil who - if I’d been there, I wouldn’t’ve left him behind, last life or fucking no. How _could_ you,” he said, and Phil wasn’t entirely coherent, so even as he said it he realized it was a rather cheap shot - but he just couldn’t bring himself to _care_.

Techno’s expression darkened. “Don’t be an idiot. Sam’s not dead, and Phil getting himself killed to try ’n save him would be the stupidest play imaginable. Phil did the right thing comin’ back here.”

“And what would you be saying if Sam had come back without Phil?” Tubbo said, quietly, calmly, crossbow still primed and ready in his lap where he sat in the corner. The question barely registered in the face of Techno and Tommy’s loud, angry voices - but it also brought the room to a halt.

Techno’s mouth went thin. “ _I’m_ not an idiot either, Tubbo - I know how he must be feelin’.”

“Do you? I think there’s a lot you don’t know about Tommy. But that’s neither here nor there - not really my concern.” He shrugged and stood. “I’ll be attempting to kill you now. I’d invite you to stand still this time, but I doubt you’ll accept this as your time to die, with everything else going on.”

He raised his crossbow to fire, and Techno and Ranboo tensed. Techno was getting ready to dodge, and Ranboo -

“Hold on, Tubbo,” he said, standing and moving as if to put himself between the two of them.

“Get out of the way, Ranboo,” Tubbo said, rolling his eyes. “I know you’re a pacifist and all, but this really isn’t any of your business.”

“No, no - hang on, Tubbo. Just - hey. Listen.” Tommy stood as well from where he’d been leaning against the table, standing in front of Tubbo and putting his hand on the crossbow. “Listen. I’ve got - we’ve got to save Sam. I’m going to need everybody’s help - even the dickhead’s,” he indicated Techno, who scowled. “And yours, if you’re willing. And we’ve got to - we’ve got to just move as quickly as possible. I _know_ I was the one just arguing, but you’re right - if Sam was injured and Phil hadn’t come back, I’d be freaking out over Sam too. I just… I just let my emotions get the best of me.” Tommy took a deep breath, then smiled. “So hey - help me out?”

Tubbo was staring at him, eyebrows raised. “Did Sam teach you that? My God, that man is good.”

Tommy’s smile dropped into a scowl. “And what’s that supposed to mean? Sam didn’t teach me shit - I’ll have you know that I’ve _grown_ as a _person_ in the time we spent apart, and I am very _mature_ now - “

“Right, right, sure. Whatever.” Tubbo rolled his eyes. “Sure, I’ll help out. If it’s for Sam, then I can shelve my, uh, _ghostly quest for vengeance_ for a few days. Who knows - maybe I’ll get to kill Dream while I’m taking a break from trying to kill Techno.”

“A paragon of efficiency,” Techno said dryly, and Tubbo grinned at him.

“Right?”

“So we’re, uh, not killing each other? Anymore? Just to be sure,” Ranboo said cautiously. He’d stayed at Phil’s side after all, once Tommy had intervened.

“I don’t think so, no,” Tommy replied.

“Glad we’ve got that all sorted out,” Phil croaked from the couch. Then he shifted of that he was sitting up slightly - Ranboo made disapproving noises and hovered over him, as if not sure what to do - and squinted at all of them in a very bedraggled sort of glare. “You are all so fucking _loud_.”

Tubbo coughed to hide a surprised guffaw, then gave up and collapsed into giggles. Tommy snorted, and a reluctant smile stole across Techno’s face.

That was about when there was a knock at the door. The mood died instantly. Techno’s hand went to his sword once more, and Phil collapsed back to the couch with a groan - “God, what the hell now?”

-

Techno answered the door. Phil sat up, with Ranboo’s perhaps unnecessary help, and peered over the back of the couch. Tommy and Tubbo leaned in as well, trying to see from the back of the room as they were.

Captain Puffy and Ponk stood outside - Puffy looking anxious and fidgety, Ponk looking bored and annoyed. And also different than the last time Tommy’d seen him - his hood had been red before, right? And his eyes dark?

His eyes were blood red now - they _looked_ dark until they caught in the light as he rolled them. His hood wasn’t drawn, so Tommy could see that it and his hair had changed to an off-white.

The only marked change about Puffy was the lack of her usual smile.

“Techno, hi, there was just an… an, uh, _incident_ back in town and we were - “ She glanced behind him, saw Phil staring back at her, and sagged even as Techno shifted to block her view. “Phil. Oh thank God. I thought you’d… I convinced them to go back to the Egg, but when we couldn’t find you again I thought the worst had happened.”

“Let them in, Techno,” Phil called, and after a moment Techno did so, though begrudgingly. His hand didn’t leave his sword - Puffy eyed it, then raised her eyebrows in surprise as she saw Tommy and the ghostly Tubbo in the corner. “Quite a party you’ve got going on here,” she said. “I guess I should get the gossip from this corner of the world more often.”

“A recent development,” Phil said. He shifted so that he could see them better, and Puffy obligingly walked into his line of sight. Ponk dawdled by the door - Techno repositioned so that there would be nothing obstructing his path to either of the newcomers. “I take it Bad and Ant don’t realize you’re all the way out here?”

“They think that we’re looking to confirm that you’re dead or finish you off,” Puffy agreed. She glanced at Ponk. “Ponk and I… have some differences of _opinion_ , but we agreed that we needed to find you.”

She dug around in her bag and produced a bottle, handing it over to Ranboo, who took it gingerly. “First of all, you need to drink this - or use it on your cuts. It’s holy water - really difficult to get into Church Prime, these days, but I have a stash. Being around blood vines with open cuts is no good, they’ll get into your system - “

“Listen. We’re here about Sam,” Ponk cut her off.

Puffy shot him a tense look but nodded. “Yeah, that’s uh - that’s the second thing. You’re not going to be able to get Sam out of the Egg yourself, if that’s what you were intending to do. You saw how Bad and Ant were - it gets ten times worse if you’re fighting the Egg at the same time.”

“That’s bullshit,” Tommy said suddenly. Puffy turned to him in surprise, and he folded his arms. “You’re on their side, aren’t you? Ponk certainly is - just look at him. What, did they send you here to play mind-games or something? This a hit job? You’re not getting past Techno, you know - and you’re not going to be able to stop us from going after Sam just by _talking_ at us.”

“No, no, I’m not - look,” Puffy raised her hands to protest her innocence. “We both care about Sam, right? We _all_ care about Sam. Ponk and I don’t want anything bad to happen to him - _right_ , Ponk?”

Ponk shifted, and the hostile expression he’d been wearing faltered slightly. “No. We need to get him out of the Egg. It’s not good - it’s hurting him.” He bit his lip, then tapped his foot impatiently. “Which is why we’re here.”

“Yes. Right. We’re here because - because we know that Sam was with you guys to begin with, and while Ponk and I can get Sam out of the Egg, we can’t hide him from Bad and Ant for long. So we’re going to need you guys’s help, to get him away once we free him. And to, you know, hide him, treat him, all of that. We’ll need to take him to Church Prime as soon as he’s out, so you guys are going to have to meet us there - well, I’ll be distracting Bad and Ant, so Ponk will be taking him there, but you get what I mean.”

“Sounds like you already have a plan put together,” Phil said slowly. Puffy laughed.

“Yeah, well. You live pretty far away - we had some time to think it over while walking here.”

“Which is why we should be getting back now,” Ponk interjected. “We don’t have long before they start getting suspicious.”

“Yes, right. Very true. Ok,” Puffy clapped her hands, and pointed at Phil. “Don’t forget the holy water. Very important. Don’t need you getting… Eggified. We’ll wait until you’re in position at Church Prime to start with the plan - see you there soon.”

The two of them swept out. Phil blinked at their hasty departure,. “Don’t ever recall agreeing, but alright.”

“Does it matter? They’re _delivering_ Sam to us - _if_ this isn’t all some big trap,” Tommy said.

Techno snorted. “Yeah, I was about to say - awfully convenient, them showin’ up right on Phil’s heels and sayin’ they can give us Sam back, but _only_ if we go back into town - y’know, their home turf. Doesn’t sound suspicious at _all_.”

“No, no, I don’t think - Puffy helped me out with Bad and Ant, back there. I realize that I haven’t really explained, so let me just summarize.” Phil sat up and swung his legs to the floor, scrubbing a hand over his face and hair and grimacing as dried blood flaked off. Ranboo got him a washcloth, and Phil nodded his thanks and scrubbed off some of the mess as he began to recount what had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/20/21 - :D
> 
> btw, a reminder: please no bashing techno and phil in the comments. critique is fine, just no "i hate / want them to die" etc. you know, everybody's sympathetic from their own perspective; i just chose not to write this story from theirs.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam had a bad feeling as they left Techno and Tommy behind, but he had a bad feeling about most everything these days.

“Just a reconnaissance mission,” he said to Phil, who nodded.

“Right.”

“And if we happen to see an opportunity to go by Church Prime and dunk me in the water and see if that does anything, then well, I think that falls under the definition of reconnaissance - wouldn’t you say? We’re, uh, reconnoitering the, uh - water.”

Phil grinned and nodded again. “Right.”

“And this way, nobody else needs to go near the scary creepy Egg thing. Particularly not, you know, Tommy - who's no good at fighting anybody - or Techno, who is _too_ good at fighting people and absolutely should not get infected.”

Phil had just kept nodding, at this point. “I would agree.”

“Good. Good. Glad we - uh, agree then.” Sam watched his feet as he picked his way across yet another rickety bridge - this one appeared to be just a log, dragged from a nearby portal to bridge a crevasse.

Phil stepped across it with ease born of familiarity and looked at him. “Not nervous, are you?”

“Not quite. Just… I don’t know. I’ll be glad to be done with all this Egg stuff.”

“Yeah, it’s certainly been a time. I mean, even after we get you treated, it’s not like the Eggpire’ll be gone away. And Dream’s still running around.”

“Mm. Wonder if we’ll see him today.”

“Who knows. I should hope he’s still licking his wounds after that encounter with Tubbo - shame the kid's occupied with trying to kill Techno every chance he gets, as I’d like to ask about how that fight went.”

Sam laughed. “You and me both.”

The Nether hub appeared in the distance as they chatted. At the sight of it, the vague dread that had settled in the pit of Sam’s stomach gave a stir.

-

They had a few invisibility potions, but the downside to those was that they required armor be off in order to work - if not, the floating set of armor strolling through town would be a dead giveaway. The shucked their armor just outside of the portal, bundling it into their own respective bags and drinking the potions before heading through.

Phil swore at the sight of the massive vines crawling across the landscape. Sam was more prepared - though the overgrowth had grown worse in the few days since he’d last been here.

“What the hell? When you told me there was vines, I didn’t think…” Phil’s voice moved away towards a large tendril, about as thick around as a dark oak tree trunk, that ran parallel to the plaza and off towards… what looked like Ponk’s lemon trees.

Sam’s gut twisted. He hadn’t gone to visit Ponk in a while, too caught up in the Prison. And Ponk had been busy anyways - hanging out with… with Ant and Bad.

He ran a hand over his face tiredly, but dropped it as Phil swore once again. There was the sound of stumbling. Sam moved towards it.

“Phil?” He asked quietly. “Is everything alright?”

“No, it’s not fucking _alright_ ,” Phil hissed, and Sam recoiled slightly at his tone. There was a moment where the only sound between them was Phil’s harsh breathing.

That, and the whispering voices that Sam had started hearing as soon as he’d stepped out of the portal - the same that he’d heard back at his base. They put him on edge.

“It fucking _spoke_ to me,” Phil said, and Sam blinked in surprise.

“Really? Tommy said he couldn’t hear anything. Or, well - he said that he already heard voices, or something like that. It spoke _directly_ to you?”

“ _Yeah_! Yeah, it said - “ Phil cut off, and Sam wished so much that he could see the other man’s expression right now. When Phil spoke again, his tone was wholly different - forcibly calm and neutral. “Well, never mind what it said. It's not important. Suffice to say that it was awful, and not at all something it should’ve known.”

“Huh,” was all Sam could offer in reply.

“It was only when I touched it, though,” Phil said. “So I guess I’ll just… not do that.”

“Yeah. Don’t. Though, that _does_ make me wonder - I don’t know if I’ve ever actually touched one of these before.” Sam’s hand raised, almost of its own volition, to hover near the surface of the vine - but he stopped himself a few inches away.

“Can’t say that I’d recommend it,” Phil said. “If it’s talking to me, who knows what it’ll do to you?”

Sam hesitated, then pulled away. “Right, right. Yeah, let’s just get going.”

They started towards Church Prime. The going was slow - they had to pick their way around the vines, or cut them out of the way where the path was wholly obstructed. This was left to Phil, since Sam couldn’t stand the noise of them as they died.

“These fuckers really are persistent, aren’t they?” Phil grunted as he cut away another straggler. The ones over the path weren’t as thick, and there were signs of them being cut or burnt back in the past. Sam wondered who else had been coming through here.

“The vines or the Eggpire?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“I mean. I’m not so sure. Bad and Ant are - were - my friends, and they… I don’t know. It’s not like they were showing any weird cultist tendencies before. All this stuff with the vines and the Egg… I just feel like it’s happening _to_ them as well as us, not _because_ of them. But again, I don’t know. That might just be my biases talking.”

“I mean, mate, I’m friends with Techno,” Phil said. His invisibility potion was starting to wear off - Sam could see flickers of an outline in the direction the man’s voice was coming from. “I am really not going to be the one to lecture you about problematic friends.”

Sam laughed harder than he really meant to. He couldn’t help it. “Yeah, and I was friends with Dream. I feel you. Ah, your invisibility, by the way.”

“Yeah, yours is wearing off as well.” Phil gave the hoe a twirl as he came even more into view. “Well, we haven’t _seen_ anybody yet - and we’ve only got so many of these. I vote that we just throw our armor back on and keep the rest in case of an emergency.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said, and they ducked into an alcove as they pulled their armor back out.

Next to him, Phil muttered something, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. Sam looked over. “What is it?”

“Ah, just realized that I don't have my gapples - must've left them behind. 'S weird, 'cause I just packed up the contents of my combat chest. There should've been a ton in there - I haven't touched it in ages, and Techno doesn't take stuff without asking first." He frowned.

“Do you think you’ll need them? We can go back,” Sam offered. Phil shrugged.

“I think that speed trumps preparedness right now. Less time we spend here is less time for those creeps to find us. I’ll manage just fine with potions, got plenty of those.”

“Right. Alright. Well, let’s just keep moving, then.”

“Sure thing.” Phil packed his things away and they set off once more.

-

However, it would turn out all that talk of stealth and speed would be for naught - which Sam realized as they reached the point where the Prime Path descended into the valley once more.

Two figure sat outside Church Prime, just at the border of where the vines faltered away. It was Bad and Ant - Ant was lounging in the sunlight, while Bad was flipping a knife, hilt over blade, over and over again. It spun high and reflected brightly against the day.

He caught and sheathed it when he noticed their approach, nudging Ant with his foot. Ant startled, then collected himself and straightened when Bad muttered something and gestured in their direction.

Sam and Phil came to a stop a healthy distance away. There was no use in subtlety now - maybe if they hadn’t been spotted they could have gone invisible and broken in from behind, but odds were that Bad and Ant would’ve just waited for them to leave, in that case.

“Sam! And Phil,” Bad called, wide grin stretching across his face as he stood. “I was wondering when you’d show.”

“How’d you know we were coming?” Sam asked. Bad laughed.

“You touched a vine as soon as you got here - how could we not?” Bad glanced away. “Though I will admit, a little birdie might’ve given us a tip-off before you got here.” He shrugged. “I’d love to tell you who, but I think that’s something I should keep to myself for now.”

“Uh… huh.” Phil said at Sam’s side. They exchanged a look.

“Not Dream, d’you think?” Phil asked quietly.

“I don’t see why he would. He and the Eggpire are at odds.”

Phil shrugged.

“In any case, we came here with an offer and a request,” Bad cut back into the conversation.

“That so?” Phil replied dryly.

“Yes, it is - though it’s more directed at Sam.” Bad pointedly looked in Sam’s direction. “We know you’re trying to, ah, _cure_ yourself - though I disagree with that word, as I don’t think that becoming a part of the Egg is something that you ought to be ‘cured’ from! In any case,” Bad hurried on as Sam opened his mouth to ask just what he was talking about, “We know you’re here looking for a cure, and we just wanted to ask, from two old friends to another - give us a chance first? The Egg is only a couple of minutes away, and you just haven’t even given us a fair shot to pitch our Eggpire to you.”

Sam hesitated. Phil leaned towards him.

“Sam, I don’t think…” he murmured, but Bad interrupted again.

“I’d like to hear what Sam has to say! Please.” His smile was a little more toothy now. His fangs flashed in the sunlight, same as his knife had. Phil huffed but stepped away.

“Ah… I don’t know. I’m really not a fan of how you guys have gone about this.”

“Yeah, we messed up. We should’ve helped you when the vine got in your back - but we didn’t know! And then you took off so quickly. We’ve only ever wanted to help, Sam.” Bad widened his eyes innocently. Ant nodded at his side.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Sam said dryly. “But…”

“But?” Bad smiled even more widely and leaned forward expectantly.

“But for the sake of old friendships - yeah, I guess we can hear you out. Or I can - I don’t want to drag you into this, Phil.” He said more quietly to Phil at his side.

Phil snorted. “You think I’m letting you go off with these maniacs without any backup? No way. I’ll come too.”

“Alright! Then it’s settled! This way please.” Bad clapped his hands together and set off. He very much resembled a tour guide.

-

Sam had seen the building they’d constructed above the Egg before - had considered how it might be a threat to the Prison, considered the distance between the two, and ultimately judged it inconsequential.

He had not, however, been inside.

  
The whole edifice was an exercise in Nether brick and dark stone - ugly and oppressive by his standards, but then, it wasn’t like Pandora didn’t have the same vibe. Bad and Ant waltzed in.

“We’re expecting some more company soon,” Bad tossed over his shoulder. “More old friends - not to worry. Just some people we thought might be helpful to the pitch.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked somewhat absently as he looked around. “Like who?”

Turns out he didn’t need to ask, though.

The door popped open, and two figures walked in. Sam blinked - the abrupt daylight temporarily blinding him so he couldn’t make out who they were.

“Bad, what was so important that - “ came Captain Puffy’s voice, and she too stopped and blinked as she noticed Sam and Phil’s presence in the room. Ponk peered out from behind her.

“Sammie? What’re you doing here?” He said, eyebrows coming together. He looked different - for a moment Sam couldn’t tell if it was the darkness of the room or something else, but as his eyes readjusted to the light he could tell that, yeah, Ponk looked different. He looked different in the way that Bad and Ant now looked different.

Sam sighed. Were he alone it would’ve been a groan - just what he needed, more complications.

“Hey, Ponkie. We were just in the area and Bad and Ant, uh, invited us over. To pitch the Eggpire to us.”

“Did they?” Ponk walked past Puffy, further into the room. “And why would they do that?”

“You know we’ve been trying to expand our recruiting drive,” Bad said cheerfully. Ponk came to a stop at his side and Bad rested an elbow casually on the man’s shoulder. “Sam’s been somewhat on the fence about the whole thing, so I thought we might, y’know. Give him a tour, show him around, explain our enterprise to him.”

“You mean you told me to give you a fair shot before I go to Church Prime,” Sam said dryly. Bad shrugged.

“Tomaytoes, tomahtoes. Well Sam, whaddya think - wanna give us a try? It would be like old times, all of us on a team again! I know the two of you haven’t been able to see each other much lately.” He gave Ponk a little nudge, but Ponk remained unresponsive and stone-faced. He was staring at Sam. Sam stared back, trying to decipher his expression.

“Hold on, hold on a second,” Puffy cut in and stepped further into the room. “Let’s, uh, think this one through, maybe a little harder. Bad, have you told them _all_ your plans for the server? And maybe, uh, what the Egg _does_ to people?”

“I don’t need to tell Sam that, Puffy,” Bad rolled his eyes, pleasant salesman’s demeanor dropping for a moment. “He already knows. He’s been a part of the Crimson for - what is it Sam, a few days now?”

“He has?” Ponk and Puffy asked simultaneously, as Sam said, “What do you mean, part of the Crimson?”

“Oh, well, that’s just an expression. It’s, you know, when the vine attached to you - you’re just a part of the same system that we’re all in, now! Nothing bad or scary, I assure you.” Bad beamed at him. Ponk at twisted at his side, now turning an incredulous stare his way.

“Were you going to _tell_ me?” Ponk demanded. Bad slid him a glance.

“I am now.”

“Yeah, but that’s not - whatever,” Ponk blew out a sigh and ran a hand over his shaved hair. The motion jostled Bad’s arm - the demon let it drop, looking a little annoyed, before he flipped back to his customers.

Puffy interjected as well. “Yeah, Bad, I think there’s a difference between wanting to join the Eggpire and getting infected by one of the vines. If Sam wants to go cure himself, then I think we should let him - “

“Puffy! Thank you for your _opinion_ , but it’s a little _unhelpful_ right now! I just -I think we are all getting a tad distracted. Sam. Would you step over here for a second? There’s something I want to show you.”

Puffy took another step forward, holding a hand out. “I wouldn’t do that, Sam,” she said, ignoring Bad as he hissed, “ _Puffy!_ ” once more.

“Yeah, I’m… I don’t know, Bad, why can’t you show it to me over here?”

Bad laughed nervously. “Oh, you know. It is a uh, location-fixed object. You have to be in a specific place to see it. Which is over here. Right, Ponk?”

Ponk seemed torn. He was chewing on his lip, glancing between Sam and Bad. Bad nudged him again, a little harder this time - an elbow to the ribs. Ponk flinched slightly away, but seemed to snap back. “What?”

“I _said_ that I think Sam should come a little closer. You know, so that he can meet the Egg. You can hear the Egg right now, right, Ponk? It’s what it wants, is to meet Sam. Help me out here.”

“Right. Um,” Ponk looked trapped. Sam’s heart twisted - his friend was usually so straightforward and stubborn. What’d happened while he’d been distracted with Pandora?

The whispering voices in the room intensified, and Ponk nodded, as if agreeing with something the rest of them couldn’t hear. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, Sammie, come here for a second - just a second! You don’t have to even go too far. I’ll, uh,” Ponk stepped forward, towards the middle of the room, and Bad smiled approvingly.

“There you are! Now, Sam?” He tilted his head expectantly.

Sam was looking at Ponk - Ponk wasn’t looking at him but staring straight forward, at some indiscernible point on the nether brick walls. The anxiety around his eyes hadn’t eased.

He took a step forward.

“Sam, I _really_ don’t think you should!” Puffy’s voice went high-pitched with stress, and she started forward as if to stop him.

Bad cut her off. “Ok, Puffy, I’m getting kinda tired of this. Ant, can you…?” Ant slipped from his side and started towards Puffy, who stepped back, hand flying to the hilt of her sword but not drawing it quite yet.

“Now Ant, let’s be reasonable,” she started, as Phil grabbed Sam’s elbow.

“Listen, mate, something hella weird is going on here. You’ve gotta be seeing that,” he murmured quietly to Sam, who twisted back towards him to listen.

“I know,” Sam muttered in response. “Believe me, I know. But… but well, it’s Ponk. I gotta make sure he’s ok. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. And besides - I mean, we’re no Dream and Technoblade, but worst comes to worst, we’re no pushovers either, right?”

Phil laughed quietly and let go. “Right.”

Ant and Puffy were arguing quietly, Bad brought his hands together in glee, and Phil was watching with dark, anxious eyes as Sam walked forward to join Ponk in the center of the room.

Ponk looked at him. “You shouldn’t be here, Sammie,” he whispered, then flinched as the murmuring voices swelled once more.

“What’re you sayin’ over there, Ponk? All good things, I hope!” Bad called - practically sung out. Ponk forced a grin and turned to him.

“Yeah, yeah! Don’t worry about me.” Ponk turned back to Sam and the grin faltered. Sam reached out and put a hand on his arm.

“Hey - what’s going on here? Are you alright? I’m sorry for not coming to visit you earlier.”

The anxiety and distraction faded away as anger sparked in Ponk's expression. “Yeah, you should be sorry. Man, Dream asks you to hang out after ditching all the rest of his friends, and you just went running. What the hell was that?”

“Hey, I didn’t think it would take so long! And after it was completed - well, there’s just been some stuff going on that was really important, and I just couldn’t get away from. Some real weird stuff. Maybe I can tell you about it after… all of this? We can meet up tomorrow or something.”

“Maybe I can’t meet up. Maybe I’m busy,” the anger became more of a pout, and a tentative smile grew on Sam’s face. He ducked his head to get a better look into Ponk’s eyes.

“Yeah? Too busy for me? What about the day after?”

“I’m busy then too. I’m actually busy all his week.” Ponk shifted slightly and turned his head. “Quit smiling at me like that. You don’t just get to waltz in here and give me that - that big, goofy grin and make everything ok again. That’s not how it works.”

“How does it work, then? I really am sorry.” Sam’s grin dropped in favor of a more sincere, earnest expression, and Ponk hesitated.

“Well, um. I - I don’t know. Maybe I can see you tomorrow after all - rearrange my schedule. But first, Sam, you really do need to get out of here. And you need to stay away from the center of the room - there’s a,” Ponk was cut off as Bad’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. Ponk flinched.

“ _Really_ Ponk, you lasted like, _two_ seconds. I know Sam does a good puppy dog eyes, but I was hoping you’d hold out for a _little_ longer,” Bad said reproachfully. Ponk threw up his hands.

“But look at him! Look at that face! I can’t say no to that face.”

Bad rolled his eyes and sighed. “Whatever. You served your purpose, anyways.”

The door thunked shut behind them, followed by the sound of banging on it - Sam turned and Puffy wasn’t in the room anymore, though her muffled voice was still carrying through, and Ant was throwing the latch into place, looking satisfied.

Then the sound of a click came from Bad and Ponk’s direction. Sam turned to them once more.

Phil edged closer to him.

Bad had kicked what seemed to be a button, hidden in a hollow on their side of the room. There was a grinding coming from the floor.

“It was going to be like this one way or another, Sam. Just think of this as the faster option,” he said, perfect smile still in place.

“It was going to be like what?” Sam asked. He took a step back and away, towards Phil.

“This,” Ant said from behind him, and before he could react a harsh shove propelled him forward. Sam stumbled and couldn’t catch himself as a hole opened in the ground just before him.

There was chaos and shouting - but Sam was already gone, consumed by a long black chimney leading into void below.

-

Still above, Philza Minecraft drew his sword. Still above, Ant and Bad drew theirs as well and moved in, the time for negotiations universally recognized as having passed.

Still above, Ponk’s hand also went to his sword hilt - but his eyes were on the hole that Sam had fallen into, as he listened to the dying echoes of Sam’s screams.

-

Below, Sam fell through water into a bundle of what initially felt like slick, warm plant fiber. It was pitch black; the square of dim light that he’d fallen through was still open. He could hear the sound of fighting above, but he couldn’t make out any words. He fumbled for his bag, trying to produce a torch, but struggled as it seemed to be caught up in the same material.

Then the material around him shifted, and his reached for his sword instead.

_I don’t think there’s any need for that_ , a twisting, sibilant voice said inside his mind, and he startled and swore with surprise. His hand hit upon the edge of his sheath, but even as he made contact, it was also swallowed into the material.

“Who’re you? What’s going on?” He asked.

_Haven’t you guessed? I've been speaking to you quite a bit, recently - even beyond the confines of this place._

Sam stared blankly. “What? Are you… are you the _Egg_? Is this _vines_?”

_In a sense_. It wasn’t quite possible for the voice to convey humor, because it wasn’t quite _human_ \- Sam couldn’t quite pinpoint the nature of it yet, overwhelmed as he was, but there was something about its composition…

_But regardless, it seems like we now have some time for a meaningful conversation. I’m glad - you’ve been quite evasive these last few days. I’m glad that my disciples finally got a hold on you._

“And what did you want to talk to me about?” Sam asked cautiously. He tried to push himself up, to his feet, but the substance around him was tricky - it felt solid at first, but gave way under his hands and wrapped around them. The more he fought, the more quickly he got wrapped up.

_What does anybody want to talk about? Your life. Your goals. What do you want, Sam? Did Technoblade not ask you that, the other day - did you provide him a satisfactory answer?_

“I… I _did_ talk to him about that yesterday. How do you know that? And besides - like, _yeah_ , I _did_ provide him a good answer. What is there to talk about?” There was a strange buzzing in his ears.

_I know about everything that’s happened to you since you became a part of me. But - you lied._

Sam paused. “What?”

_You only want to help everybody around you_. Something twisted around his leg, and he flinched. _That’s a lie._

“It’s not. It’s what I’m good for - helping people.” The buzzing intensified.

_You’re tired, aren’t you?_ The voice asked, and it was like… it was like, it wasn't wrong. He _was_ tired.

He was.

He was exhausted. In the weeks since Tommy had been left at Pandora's Vault and everything had gotten so complicated, it had felt like more and more of him had been scraped away - especially recently, even as he’d tried to put up a good front for Tommy’s sake.

_You work so hard_ , it said. _You’re there for everybody. You do what they ask you to. You build and you build - build up people, structures, friendships - and for what? For people to come and tear it all down again, in their petty squabbles and drama. Nobody appreciates you, Sam. You are a pawn._

The tendrils shifted around his body, and beneath the sinuous voice of the egg there were a million more, in every shade of emotion and state - pleading, wailing, screaming, laughing, crying, shouting with joy, shouting with horror. He closed his eyes against the noise.

_We could build something better. I’ve already begun to. All you have to do is help me_.

“The problem - the problem with building things,” Sam said, coughing as he found that his throat was unexpectedly dry. How long had he been in here? He couldn’t say - just carried on. “Is that you need a firm foundation to build them on. You’re not going to sway me. I’m going to wait until my friends come to pull me out of here, and you won’t be getting to me in the meantime.”

The tumult grew momentarily, overwhelming in its violence - then settled back into the voice from before. _What a thought. Let’s test it out, shall we?_

That was when the pain set in.

It as if there were vines writhing beneath Sam’s skin - whether they were real or not, he couldn't say. They certainly _felt_ real enough. The agony was real enough.

He screamed for help. Nobody answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/23/21 - so phil fixed up tommy's half-house yesterday on stream, thereby emphasizing to me why I have to write so damn quickly - 'cause canon develops so fast, lmao. stuff i wrote even last week is already outdated *head in hands*
> 
> and of course some Shit went down with Dream and Tommy in the Prison. And they had this interesting interaction, of like:
> 
> Dream: Well everybody's sympathetic from their own perspective.  
> Tommy: No they're not. That's wrong.
> 
> And the theorists on Twitter and Tumblr had a field day with that one, pointing out that Tommy, in the blown-up Community House, said that he hated himself and was like the people he hated most, etc. Tommy has recognized and grown from his mistakes; that is not applicable to many characters on the SMP.
> 
> Which is interesting! It's interesting because, I believe, that little note (everybody is sympathetic to themself) is exactly how I ended off the last chapter lol. And it's how I've justified a lot of Techno's actions - with the understanding that most people on the SMP stream their own perspective and so their fans can see _why_ they do what they do, with the exception of the cartoonishly evil such as Bad and Jack Manifold - or, of course, those who don't stream, like Schlatt and Dream.
> 
> It was just weird, to feel so called out by, y'know, a circumstantial interaction. So I thought I might kinda elaborate, alleviate some of that feeling of conviction - and I think I'll probably incorporate that new understanding into this fic, in some form or fashion. 
> 
> sigh.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy gets an offer

Phil had finished cleaning off his face about halfway through the story. Techno had taken the now bloody washcloth from his hands as he’d twisted it anxiously, absent-mindedly, and thrown it into the cauldron in the corner which they used for their laundry. Phil smiled at the gesture, but hadn’t paused in his story.

Tommy was grateful for it. It was difficult enough to sit through this as it was.

_Why?_ was all he wanted to ask. He was tense with the effort of not interrupting, drumming his fingers against the cover of his memory book as he leaned against the table in the corner. Tubbo sat to his side (hovered, more like, but whatever); at some point Ranboo had come and taken the other chair, hunching over initially as if he expected somebody to kick him back out of it.

Tubbo was listening quietly, stone-faced. As Tommy glanced over he noticed and stared back, then looked down pointedly at Tommy’s tapping fingers and cocked his head. Tommy shrugged and looked away.

He stilled his fingers - though began tapping his foot after a moment or two. He heard Tubbo exhale quietly, almost a sigh.

“I just don’t get why you’d _go_ there,” Techno cut in. “It was obviously a trap. These guys have been nothin’ but shady from the get-go.”

“I mean, yeah, but - but they’re Sam’s friends. Or they were. I think he wanted to give them a chance to, y’know. Not be awful.”

“Stupid,” Techno huffed. “He was stupid to trust them - and shouldn’ta dragged you into his mess.”

“He’s already been fucking _captured_ , Techno, and is probably being _tortured_ while we all sit around here with our thumbs up our - well. Like, is it really necessary to shit on him, too? Are you even going to _be_ helpful, or just snide?” Tommy interjected. His arms were folded; he flexed his fingers where they had a white-knuckled grip on his sleeves, in an attempt to keep them from going for Techno’s neck.

“Phil needs to rest up while the potion works on him. We’ll all get goin’ once that’s done.” Techno watched him with a peculiar kind of look. “You’re not _defendin’_ his choice to go with the Egg people.”

“Sam’s been carrying my ass through all sorts of shit. I think he’s entitled to a mistake.”

“Just ‘cause you don’t believe in friends, Techno, doesn’t mean that other people are stupid for caring about people,” Tubbo chimed in.

“I don’t - I believe in friends,” Techno said, frowning in confusion and maybe a little hurt. “I’m just not _dumb_ about it. Trustin’ people blindly can get you hurt - this whole situation bein’ case in point.”

“He didn’t trust them blindly, though,” Phil intervened. “Maybe I didn’t make that clear enough. They tricked him.”

“Yeah, but if he’d never gone _in_ there in the first place - “

“It was still their fault for tricking him!” Tommy said hotly.

“Alright yeah, _morally_ , but the fact stands that he’d still _be_ here.” Techno sat back and folded his arms as well. “Y’all can lecture me all you want about morals ’n principles ’n such, but you’re not convincin’ me that trustin’ people is a good idea.”

“Which is a good reason why people shouldn’t trust _you_ , either,” Tubbo said dryly. Techno shifted.

“I guess it depends on your definition of trust. I’ve always been clear about what I believe - if you keep on my side of things then I’ll be there for you. Betray my principles, then you’ll be on the opposing side.” Techno shrugged. “It's a simple and easy way of doin' things. A _safe_ way of doin' things.”

“And when you blew me up with rockets at point blank range? Was that because I’d _betrayed your principles_ , Technoblade?” Tubbo asked. His dry humor had morphed into real anger - he leaned forward, hands balling into where they rested against his knees.

Techno raised his eyebrows, clearly caught off guard. “Well, no. That was ‘cause of Schlatt. Tubbo, I - we talked about this after it happened. I thought you understood why I had to do what I did.”

Tubbo exploded from his chair, crossbow clutched in his fist. “You didn’t _have_ to do shit! You killed everybody else immediately after - so clearly they weren’t a _threat_! Yeah, maybe I did say it was alright, at the time. Maybe I did say that I forgave you, ‘cause I knew that otherwise - otherwise the whole revolution would fall apart, and I blamed Schlatt more than I blamed you. And maybe alive Tubbo _cared_ about all of that. Cared about people getting along, even if it meant swallowing all the - all the _bullshit_ you guys spout _constantly_.”

Techno was wide-eyed with surprise - they all kind of were. Tubbo looked around at them just sitting there and then shut his own eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, the set of his expression was steely.

“I don’t care about it anymore. Last time you blew up L’Manberg, Techno, you said to Tommy that you weren’t a weapon anymore, but a person. Well guess what - if a sword kills somebody, you don’t blame the sword for their death, but the person that wields it. I blame you. You’re not a weapon but a person, and you decided to kill me, and I blame you for that. I’ll do so until I kill you myself.”

More silence. Tubbo sighed again and shook his head. “I gotta get out of here.”

He strode for the door and thrust it open, mindless of how it banged against the frame and not bothering to close it after he’d left.

The room was quiet for a beat.

“I’m - “ Tommy and Ranboo said in unison, before pausing and looking at each other in surprise.

“I’m gonna go after him,” Tommy finished uneasily. “Ranboo, can you, ah…”

“Sure, sure.” Ranboo nodded his head obligingly. “Don’t worry about it. Take all the time you need.”

Technoblade and Phil said nothing all, caught up in some kind of silent communication. Tommy ignored them; wasn’t like they’d been helpful at any point leading up to this.

“Right.” Tommy followed Tubbo out the door. His memory book was still clutched in his hands.

-

Tubbo left no tracks in the snow, but he hadn’t gotten so far that it was impossible to see his silhouette. He’d walked around the house, towards the bee farm - and now slightly past it.

Tommy called his name and trudged after. Tubbo glanced back and paused.

“I’d say sorry, but I’m not apologizing for like… having feelings anymore,” he said, an awkward kind of vulnerability in his eyes. He seemed ready to get angry again, if Tommy misstepped.

Tommy tried not to misstep.

“Wasn’t gonna ask you to, big man,” he replied. “Just wanted to see if you were… ok.”

Tubbo eyed him, went to respond, paused, and shut his mouth again. Eventually he said, “I appreciate that.”

A long pause stretched between them. When Tommy said nothing further, Tubbo continued. “I just… I just get so _angry_ , these days. I don’t know if it’s the whole _dying_ thing, or just, well, finally having some time to process things. When I was alive, everything was always so rushed. We went straight from L’Manberg to Schlatt, from Schlatt to everything being blown up and me being put in charge of all of it, then it all got blown up again… I had Snowchester, obviously, for a little bit, but being a ghost has just, a different quality to it. That’s why I never bothered talking to Techno, just tried to kill him. Was cause I got so _angry_ whenever I saw him, out here, leading this just, _peaceful_ life. Like he never did anything wrong. But also because I’m just sick and tired of people not listening to me, I guess. Like, in there? When he mentioned the whole festival thing, and how I forgave him? It wasn’t even really _me_ that he hashed things out with. It was you. It was always you, it was always _about_ you. _You_ fought him in the pit, because _you_ were mad that I died, not me.”

“Was that… a bad thing?” Tommy asked uncertainly. Tommy blew out a sigh.

“I mean, no, I’m glad that you wanted to stick up for me. But it was just - never about how _I_ was feeling, or what _I_ wanted. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of people.” He looked away, at the snow, and fidgeted with his sleeve. “Except Ranboo. He’s alright.”

“Alright. Well I’m… sorry… if I made you feel like I wasn’t paying attention to how you were feeling. I get very… I’m very emotional. And headstrong. You know.”

Tubbo smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

He tapped his foot and looked back at the house. The crossbow had been slung over his shoulder, but he unhooked it now. “Look, I kind of want to, just, take a little break. Just a little one. I’m tired - materializing takes it out of me, though I’ve been getting better at it. I’m gonna try and ‘kill’ Techno right now and dematerialize for a while. Have him draw his sword or something if you need me.”

“Yeah, alright, um. Just, wait a second - hey,” Tommy hurried forward as Tubbo drew an arrow from his quiver. “Hey. I, uh, don’t know if you can carry real things around, but I wanted you to have this? It’s a book of all the things we did together - I wrote it in the Prison. I was gonna bury it, before I realized that you’d come back as a ghost, but now… well, I dunno, I guess I just think with you is the best place for it to be. For the time being. I know you don’t intend to stick around forever.”

Tubbo blinked at him and nodded, after a second, and Tommy thrust the book towards him. Tubbo took it and ran thumb over the cover.

“Alright. Sure. I’ll, uh, be sure to give it a look. Thank you,” Tubbo looked up at Tommy, and the look in his eyes was somehow both soft and piercing. It was a very Tubbo kind of look. “That’s more, well… _thoughtful_ than I expected you to be.”

Tommy huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s like I said inside - I’m a little different now, too.”

Tubbo nodded, and Tommy squeezed his arm and stepped away. The other boy raised his crossbow, and didn’t even really seem to aim - just fired in the direction of the house. There was the noise of shattering glass and shouting as Tubbo disappeared in a whirl of black smoke - when Tommy look back a window was broken. Ranboo's face was peering out of it.

“Tubbo’s gone?” He asked.

Tommy shrugged. “For now.”

Ranboo nodded. There was an awkward pause.

“Uh… comin’ back inside?”

Tommy shrugged again. “Yeah. In a moment. We’re not ready to go yet, right?”

“No, Techno and Phil are putting some stuff together. Phil’s bleeding has stopped, at least, so that’s… good.”

“Yep.”

“Alright, well I’m just gonna… go…”

Tommy laughed a little, to himself, as the hybrid ducked out of the window.

It was still daytime, which felt almost wrong. So much had happened that he felt it ought’ve been night by now. The weather had turned grey - cold and blustery, with intermittent gusts of wind - so he couldn’t even judge the angle of the sun to see what time it was.

Tommy walked a little further into the tundra. He didn’t like the feeling of the house looming at his back.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t known that Tubbo probably had some grievances from the times before. He’d thought some of the same stuff himself, after all - that he’d fucked some things up, where Tubbo was concerned. And Tubbo had screwed up with regards to him, in turn.

After all, Tubbo was yelling at Techno about accountability, but was the one who, at the end of the day, had issued the orders to have Tommy exiled from L’Manberg. Dream had put him in the position of choosing, and Wilbur had put him in the position of being President, but - but Tubbo had been the one to make the _choice_.

Wasn’t that the same? Tommy’s hands still shook when he saw a plains biome, his breath still got short when he dug a hole - was he entitled then, too, to make Tubbo suffer like he’d suffered?

_No_ , but -

And, he couldn’t -

It wasn’t the time to be arguing, was all he could come to. It wasn’t the time to be arguing about who did what or hurt who. And when that time rolled around, he’d have Sam to help him through it, or he’d be dead.

And that was all the thinking he really needed to do on the matter.

He’d been so distracted by his disturbed thoughts that he’d walked farther than he’d intended; when he turned around the house was much smaller with distance, like a child’s plaything. Unlike Tubbo, he didn’t float - so the thick line of his tracks spanned the distance between him and it. With a sigh, he glanced once more at the distant horizon, in which direction laid the sea and the Dream SMP, the place where (hopefully) they’d be leaving for soon, before turning to head back.

Or, at least, that’s why he’d been intending to do.

There was a figure standing where there hadn’t been, moments before. He was dressed in dark green leathers with enchanted Netherite layered over top, and had a smooth white mask with a smiley face burned deeply into it.

It was Dream.

Tommy’s breath stopped coming.

“Tommy!” Dream said, voice warm and friendly, and it could’ve been day one of the exile all over again. “Oh boy, it’s been _ages_ since we got to talk one-on-one. I’ve missed you! Have you missed me?”

“D-Dream?” Tommy stuttered and stumbled back, snow weighing his movements and betraying his feet. He slipped and scrambled back up before Dream could so much as twitch. “Is that - is that really you? What’re you doing here?”

“How’d he phrase it? Ah - a ‘little birdie’ told me that Sam’s fallen on some hard times, and you’re all alone once more. I guess I must’ve been mistaken - I thought I saw Tubbo just now! Where’d he go?” He seemed so surprised as to be mocking, turning from side to side as if Tubbo would pop out of the snow at any moment.

Tommy shivered. “Yeah, he uh… went somewhere else. For a bit. _Who_ told you about Sam?”

Dream cocked his head and considered Tommy. There was a long pause.

“BadBoyHalo. Bad did,” he said finally, and Tommy tried not to visibly sag with relief. Dream’s tone had shifted to something more serious - which was good. That was a good thing. Unhinged, friendly Dream was a wildcard, and anything you said could set him off, no matter how benign. Serious Dream was… manageable.

“Yeah? Why’d he do that?” He asked.

Dream hummed - barely audible over the wind - and shifted his weight as he considered the question. “They want me to join their faction - or at least temporarily ally with each other. So I - well. So _they_ told _me_ what had happened with Sam, and of course I was immediately concerned about where that would leave you _,_ so, you know. I rushed on over.”

“Right,” Tommy said disbelievingly.

“So how’s it been going, Tommy? This little exercise in freedom. Your little _escapade_. Has it been everything you hoped for?” Dream paused, then said, “I seem to recall, in our last interaction, _warning_ you how it would - "

“Don’t!” Tommy cut a hand through the air as if it could physically cut off Dream’s words. “Don’t! Don’t fucking - no. _No_. It wasn’t my fault.”

“Yeah, sure. It wasn’t,” Dream agreed easily.

Tommy was already breathing harshly - it was like air had a hard time moving in and out of his lungs. Dream considered him, and sauntered a little closer. Tommy stayed stock-still, almost too scared to move.

“I’m just saying - wasn’t it you that asked him for those berries in the first place? That’s how I found him, you know - pack full of berries, gaping at what had become of the SMP. Idiot stayed holed up in Pandora’s Vault for so long that he had no idea of what was going on. I’m just saying that _maybe_ , if he wasn’t so distracted, he would’ve known to be a little warier, a little smarter. And _who_ was distracting him so much, hm?” Dream stopped just outside of easy reach. “Not _me_ , certainly - I was too busy with cleaning up everybody else’s mess to come and visit. That only leaves you, Tommy.”

“I was just… I was just being myself. I was literally holed up in a _prison_ , Dream, you can’t blame me for _you_ fighting him.”

“I wouldn’t have fought him if he’d stayed the same old Sam I knew and loved.” Dream spread his hands wide, as if to protest his innocence. “Sam and I were friends. We got along great. _Everybody_ on this server did - or used to, before you got here. Don’t you see? It all tracks back to you. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, maybe you don’t _feel_ like it - but Tommy, I’ve thought and I thought about it, and I can trace every single problem in my life right now back to you, and what you did to the relationships on this server when you joined. So I’ve come here with an offer.”

“An… offer,” Tommy repeated slowly. The logic didn't seem to track - but Dream didn't keep him in the dark for long.

“Yeah. Y’know, just - like, look. I can help you. The Eggpire, they came to me and offered a compromise, and it made me realize - you and I, we don’t have to be at odds like this. I can help you free Sam, get Tubbo back - you know, like, the _real_ Tubbo - and make it so that you don’t have to rely on Technoblade for all of this. If you even _can_ rely on him - surely you have doubts, right? I mean, I can count on one hand the number of times where an alliance between you and him has gone well.” Dream held up a fist. “Zero. That’s zero times.”

Tommy snorted despite himself.

“Yeah, well. I could say the same of you,” he replied.

Dream scoffed. “I’d disagree, but whatever. Aren’t you going to ask me what my terms are?”

“I - sure. What’re your terms, Dream?” Tommy didn’t trust Dream as far as he could throw him, and certainly didn’t trust whatever _bargain_ the man had come up with, but - but well, he was defenseless out here, and he had only his mouth and Dream’s ego to rely on.

Again, a horribly, horribly familiar situation. He wondered if he’d ever look at obsidian and lava the same way again.

“The terms are simple: I help you with Sam, I help you with Tubbo, and in exchange, you back to the Prison. Forever. No more wheedling, no more fighting back - you just, give in. Permanently. Tell you what, I’ll even negotiate some sort of visitation schedule with your friends for you - it doesn’t have to be so bad! You just - like, I fix your problems, you go back to the Prison and in doing so fix _my_ problem, and everybody’s happy. What about that?”

Tommy stared at him. It was so - so _Dream_ , in its terrible simplicity, in the gentle, coaxing way that he presented it, as if it was the only logical conclusion. If Tommy hadn’t already done this a dozen times before, he might’ve been swayed - but he _had._ He _had_ done this before. So many times before. Bargains with Dream never worked out.

Now, only to extricate himself from it.

Dream seemed to take his prolonged silence for something different than what it was - thank God. The man never took rejection well.

“I know this is rather sudden, and it’s a big decision to make - but really, I’m doing you a favor here. I’m being generous! I could’ve - could’ve just _jumped_ you. I mean, you’re alone,” he chuckled. “I could drag you back to the Prison at any point I wanted. Need Sam to get in, but that wouldn’t be so difficult - I could just shove you in like, an obsidian box or something while I go grab him. But no - I am doing this _nicely_ and _politely_. So keep that in mind, Tommy, when considering how to respond. Things could be much worse.”

“I - I will,” Tommy said slowly _._

“Alright. Then, well. I don’t suppose you have a response for me, straight away? We can get this all figured out here and now?” Dream bounced on the tips of his toes with something like excitement.

Tommy remained silent, and Dream stopped bouncing.

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I figured. I’d _hoped_ differently, obviously, but, well - wouldn’t be Tommy if you didn’t make everything as difficult as possible, right?” Dream laughed to himself.

Tommy continued to react as little as possible, in the hopes that if he didn’t fuck this up the man would just go away.

Dream paused. “Oh. Hey, Ranboo.”

Tommy turned, and sure enough there was Ranboo - his tall, black figure cutting a stark contrast to the snow. The hybrid was looking between the two of them, eyes wide.

“Dream. Uh, hi. I was just… just looking for Tommy. I didn’t realize you were also here.”

“Yeah, I won’t be sticking around for much longer. How’s your week been? I’ve heard it’s been… _eventful_ around here for the last few days, and I was thinking of you.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s uh, it’s been - it’s been somethin’. Lots of people. Lots of, uh - drama. But I have also, uh, heard that there’s some of that goin’ on back in town, too, so I imagine that you’ve got your hands pretty full.”

Dream laughed. “ _Drama_ is definitely an understatement for what’s going on back in the SMP. _Drama_. Jeez. Yeah, no, we’ve got a whole _apocalypse_ on our hands - or something like it. You should steer clear of it for the next few days, Ranboo - I know you don’t like violence or partisanship, and there’s a lot of that going on.”

“Oh! Ok, thank you! I appreciate, uh, that heads up. Though I _think_ I may already _be_ involved,” he added, with a glance at Tommy.

"Let’s hope not. I’ll see you next week, alright? Usual time and place. Stay safe. And Tommy - think about it. I know you guys must be headed to get Sam soon; I’ll be around when that happens.”

Dream gave them a wave as parting then turned and set back off into the snow. With the haze as it was - wind picking up the loose top layer of snow and blowing it around - he vanished quickly. Ranboo walked up next to Tommy, also watching Dream’s figure disappear.

“He is evil, Ranboo.” Tommy said quietly once the other was within earshot. “Don’t trust him. You will… worse than regret it. He ruins lives.”

Ranboo considered that as he stared into the snow. “He said something similar about you, once."

And that was that. They walked back to the house without another word.

(Tommy’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/25/21 - i hit a 100k words total on this account today, and decided to celebrate it by going overboard by writing a new chapter of warden as well. i'm exhausted :p what do y'all think? worth it?
> 
> in “yes i look at the bookmarks comments” news - @leo_lynn’s "sam got abducted by the egg unpog" made me laugh sm. thank you, yes, that is a perfect summary lol.  
> @cadencewastaken ‘s simple yet effective, “kill egg >:( ” was a good one too :)
> 
> sam stuck in the egg like  
> >:(
> 
> edit: been getting some questions about ranboo. am going to try and address this properly in-story, so no spoilers, but i will point something out:  
> dream was never in prison, in this au. punz and co, ft. ranboo, never came to the rescue - so dream's been free to go and do whatever he pleases in between visits to tommy, and he wasn't seriously fighting up the Eggpire up until about a week from when Tommy and Sam leave the Prison.
> 
> wonder what he's been up to?
> 
> wonder how dream having free reign of a tubbo and tommy-less smp has changed things for him?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> apologies

Night had encroached upon the arctic once more by the time they set out. It took only an hour or two from the point of Phil’s arrival to get everything ready and head back out again, all told; it felt like a lifetime.

He and Ranboo had returned with that dead, uncomfortable silence between them. Phil and Techno hadn’t noticed it at first, wrapped up in themselves as they always were. Fran had been sitting quietly in a corner as they’d milled around, same place as Sam’d parted with her. Tommy went and sat at her side, leaning into her warm weight as the last of the preparations were made. She’d whined, and he’d run a hand through her fur.

“I know,” he’d said quietly. “I don’t like it either. We’ll get him back soon.”

Ranboo’s mismatched eyes had bored into him from across the room - only looking away once he stared back.

But as they’d been packing up their things, Phil had looked between the two of them. “What’s up with you two? Worried about Sam? Well, I mean, obviously - but you were both much chattier before you went out.”

Ranboo opened his mouth to respond, but Tommy cut in before he could do so. “Nothing. Nothing happened. Ranboo and I just had something of a disagreement about… what we should do, is all.”

Ranboo’s mouth clicked shut, and Phil looked between the two of them, an eyebrow rising skeptically. “That so.”

“Yep. Unless you wanna tell them something different, Ranboo? A little _sharing_ time?” A vicious edge seeped into Tommy’s tone and he had to forcibly reel himself back, as even Technoblade looked up from where he was preparing packs of supplies.

Ranboo was hunching over even more now, looking scared and browbeaten. He was looking at the floor. “No. Uh… no. I’m, uh, good. Sorry.”

He looked pathetic. It made Tommy sick - he scoffed and looked away.

A second disbelieving eyebrow rose to join Phil’s first, but all he said was, “Uh huh.” After a moment, when no more conversation was forthcoming, he turned back to Techno and resumed their quiet considerations.

Tommy was sick of _all_ of this, really. He leaned into Fran and closed his eyes, burying his face in her soft fur. She smelled like Sam’s place still, just a bit. She did a doggy sigh, one that he felt through the expansion and contraction of her rib cage, and shifted so that she could better brace against him.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep like that - couldn’t understand how he’d _managed_ it - but fall asleep he did. He was only aware of this fact when a gentle touch on his shoulder woke him once more.

He flinched and his eyes shot open, hand convulsing in Fran’s fur even as he jerked away from her. She growled at the person who’d woken him - Technoblade, who was now warily eyeing her.

“We’re gettin’ ready to head out,” he said, presumably to Tommy, though he and the dog were engaging in some very intense eye contact. “Figured you’d like to know.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Tommy scrubbed a hand over his face, through his hair, and tried to wake himself up faster. “Ok. Yeah, I’m ready.”

He got slowly to his feet, as his muscles began to protest his sleeping in such an odd position. Fran got up as well - pressed herself against his leg. Ranboo and Phil were already at the door, chatting amiably in the way that people who didn’t pick fights with every breathing thing around them could do.

Techno straightened from his crouch, but otherwise stayed where he was.

“What?” Tommy snapped. “I’m moving, I’m moving. I won’t hold us up.”

“No, it’s not that,” Techno said, waving Tommy’s peevish comment aside. “I just… I dunno. I’m sorry, for earlier. Phil told me I was overreactin’, and he was right. It was - well, the voices were real upset, but that’s no reason t’be pushin’ you around like that. So I’m sorry.”

It was so uncharacteristic for Technoblade to apologize that Tommy stopped what he was doing. “I… you don’t have to say you’re sorry, big man. Since when did we all bother with things like that?” He tried to play his surprise off with a weak chuckle. Techno’s eyes were dark.

“Maybe we ought to be doin’ _more_ of it,” Techno said, shrugging. “Might… mighta solved a lotta problems, back in the day. Maybe I didn’t realize that then. Maybe I oughta think more about it now.”

He was talking about Tubbo. He had to be. Tommy bit the inside of his cheek and couldn’t quite make eye contact. “I wish you the best of luck with that, my friend. And… thank you, I guess,” was all he could manage.

They parted ways with that, both intensely uncomfortable. Tommy grabbed his pack and started towards the door. Philza was watching him, having clearly witnessed the encounter, with a funny little smile playing around his lips. Tommy made a face at him and brushed past.

Ranboo was waiting outside, pack already shouldered, face to the wind. He was looking out at the edge of the torchlight - Tommy thought he saw a tall silhouette, a hint of purple in the black there. The hybrid turned though, at the noise of the door opening, and blinked at Tommy’s abrupt appearance. There wasn’t time to say anything; Phil was right on his heels and Technoblade after.

Tommy glanced back as Techno went to shut the door, and saw Fran slump to the floor again, in that same damn spot. She was looking at him.

There _also_ wasn’t time for him to do anything before the door closed, but the sight of her waiting for an owner that might never come back… well, it settled into his heart. Into that chamber of memories he just couldn’t address without breaking down.

-

The decided to go by boat, out of concern the Eggpire might be camping out the Nether Hub - that this all might be some grand trap. Techno lead the group to the shore, Phil at his side, the two of them summarily dispatching any mobs that came their way. There was, as always, a joking exchange between the warrior and Philza any time a baby zombie attacked; something about Phil dying to one in a past life. They seemed unbothered, Techno particularly more relaxed now that he could wield his sword, and now that Phil’s life was no longer in danger.

Tommy and Ranboo walked behind, that same uneasy silence between them.

Ranboo was the first one to break it this time. “Hey, Tommy, I just wanted to say that I - I’m sorry. I know that you and Dream have a pretty fraught history, and I don’t wanna seem like I was taking his side over yours. I don’t know if you, uh, remember this, but I don’t really believe in taking sides overall - “

“I know,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know you’re a pacifist and all that. Or _nonpartisan_ ,” he added, slightly proud of himself for remembering the word. “You’re very _emphatic_ about it.”

“I _am_ very emphatic about it,” Ranboo replied, an undercurrent of amusement to his words. “Its… well, kinda my entire life philosophy. But, uh, yeah. Not taking a side doesn’t mean I don’t get why you don’t like him - hate him, even. I know that a lot’s happened between the two of you. I know he killed Tubbo - and I’m not, not tryin’ to erase that.” Ranboo looked away, expression inscrutable in the dark. “We talk, but we’re not friends.”

Tommy pursed his lips, a dozen angry responses wanting to burst out. What he finally settled on was a neutral, “What _do_ you two talk about, then?”

“Oh, well. Just… stuff. I haven’t been around for really long, you know, and Dream has - so sometimes he tells me about what it was like before everybody else got here. Then sometimes he helps me with stuff - I’m, ah, not so good at looting. Or building. Or combat.” Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly.

“Before everybody else got here, as in - me? He shit talks me?” Tommy asked dryly. Ranboo frowned and glanced over.

“Not really. I mean, he’s mentioned you arriving once or twice - but no, usually we just talk about when, like, George and Sapnap were around. And Sam and Bad and Ant, Ponk, Punz, Alyssa, Callahan… you know, the whole gang. He seems to really miss it.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, I bet.” A pause. “You know he did all that himself, right? I mean, he blames me, but - he drove all those people away. Said that the attachments were weaknesses and cut them off - told me when we had our kind of final fight. All except Sam, who he needed for the Prison. And _you_ , apparently, for… some reason.”

“Is it really so odd to think that he’d want somebody to talk to? I mean, he may be wildly powerful, but he’s still… still _human_ , right? People need friends. They need to talk to other people, or else they go crazy.”

“He _is_ crazy. And he doesn’t _want_ friends - he told me himself, right before he _murdered_ Tubbo just to - just to _get_ to me. So, whatever he is to you - you are not _his_ friend.” Tommy paused again, and shot Ranboo a sidelong look. “I hope you haven’t told him anything important.”

Ranboo was frowning, considering what Tommy told him. “I - well, so do I, I guess. I’m not so good about remembering things. That’s… a lot to process.”

Tommy shrugged. “Process it or not. ’S not really my problem, is it? I got enough Dream-related shit on my plate - your, uh, _business_ with him is your own. So if you were like, trying to get forgiven for talking with him, consider it fine. Don’t really know why you’d apologize to me in the first place, but whatever.”

“Well, it’s because you’re my friend, and I hurt your feelings, and that wasn’t right. That’s why I needed to talk to you about this. We… we _are_ still friends, right? You didn’t… uh, change your mind, already? I _am_ truly sorry - “ Ranboo was twisting his hands together, shoulders hunched down. His slumped posture didn’t achieve much, as he was still a good deal taller than Tommy, but…

It _really_ was pathetic. Tommy’s heart was twisting in his chest. He reached out and put a hand on Ranboo’s arm, and the hybrid went quiet. Tommy didn’t look at him.

“Yeah, we’re still friends, Ranboo. It’s alright.” He sighed. “And you don’t have to pick my side, either. Just keep what I said in mind.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Ranboo bobbed his head, the motion just slightly inhuman. “I will. Thank you. I, uh, well - I don’t know. Thank you for being understanding? I didn’t really expect you to… handle it well.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Everybody’s thinking I’m just gonna blow up and act the idiot all the time, like I’m not allowed to _grow_ , or anything - look,” he said, and Ranboo was already cringing again, so he modulated his voice to something less irritated. “Look. Maybe in the past I would’ve acted like that. Maybe sometimes I’ll _still_ act like that. But I’m getting better. I’m trying to _be_ better. Ranboo…” Tommy tilted his head as he thought. “The first time we met each other, the last time we _really_ interacted, was just before the exile. And that was one of the worst parts of my life, _ever_. L’Manberg, the stuff with Wilbur and Schlatt - no matter how bad that got, it still doesn’t even compare. And then I was in prison, and that sucked _ass_ , too. I mean, Sam was there, but he wasn’t really _my_ Sam - not quite yet. He had some growing to do as well. So, yeah. I’m not the Tommy you knew. I’m not even the Tommy those idiots,” he nodded to indicate the adults in front of them, “have known. I’m trying my best to be something better.”

“That’s… remarkably profound.”

Tommy shrugged. “Not really. Sam ’n me’ve been talking about it. He gets a lot of my little hangups - doesn’t just yell or get mad at me about ‘em. Makes it easier to talk about the bigger stuff.”

“Yeah, I get that. Well… I’m happy for you? That sounds nice.” Ranboo sighed, expression slightly distant. “ _Really_ nice, in fact. I’m a little jealous.”

“Hey,” Tommy nudged Ranboo in the side, and waited until the hybrid looked in his approximate direction. “Don’t you go trying to poach Sam to fix your emotional issues. Find your own… person.”

Ranboo laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m working on it. Well, I do have Tubbo - but he’s got a lot of problems of his own, so I don’t know if it’s really the same thing.”

“No, I don’t think so either,” Tommy said, and another complex quiet fell upon them as they drew up to the edge of the water, where Phil and Techno had stopped and waiting for them.

At least they’d sorted out their tension, in any case.

-

It’s like this -

It’s pain. It is a never-ending, never-wavering, ceaseless pain, akin to a note drawn out so long that it becomes background noise, becomes meaningless.

Until it isn’t. Until the pain ends. But it doesn’t end - it does but it doesn’t. It’s a crucible he’s being forged in. The Egg whispers to him - or he whispers to it? - and its voice sounds like Dream, like like Tubbo, like Tommy, like Ponk - like his own. The voices are legion. The voices are one, and it’s been talking to him, and he can’t quite remember if he’s been talking back.

It’s like this: Sam surfaces in a haze of red and burning, and it’s pitch black dark, and he doesn’t know where his body ends and the Egg begins, and there are voices outside of it. One raises above the others, loud enough that he can make out what they’re saying.

“You’re _hurting_ him!” It’s Puffy, and it’s real.

Maybe. Probably.

Then another voice chimes in - Bad, responding, and Sam becomes marginally more certain that this is a real interaction.

Bad’s voice gets closer to the Egg. “When it’s done he won’t _remember_. When it’s done he’ll barely care at all. It’s a refinement process. Sam… the Egg wanted him to be the first, to contribute his life force and be replenished through its power. We’ll all be going through it soon enough! And we’ll all be together, and then all the SMP will be a part of the Crimson.”

“He’s been _screaming_ , Bad. Surely you’re not… surely you care. It’s _Sam_.”

The Egg vibrated, and Sam could almost feel Bad’s presence on the outside, the warmth of his hand and life where it made contact with the Egg’s shell - he could almost feel the presence of everybody outside of it. Or did he? Did he feel them? Did he feel Bad’s impassioned drive, Ant’s amused placidity, Ponk’s burning anger, Puffy’s dismayed reticence - did he really feel them out there, just beyond the shell of the Egg, or was his brain finally melting as his body had been?

“Of course I care. This is what’s best for him; if we pull him out now he’ll just fall apart. When he comes out he’ll be stronger - with the power of the Egg we won’t have to worry about things like sickness or death anymore. The Egg will help us communicate! No more petty squabbles, no more prisons - we just have to make some sacrifices along the way.”

“So you admit you’re sacrificing him!”

“Ok, well, technically _he_ is sacrificing a bit of _himself_ \- but the Egg will replace it! No need to worry! Just - just give it some time to work. Cut it some slack.” Bad’s voice shifted away again, moving back into the room.

“I’m gonna cut _something_ ,” a dark mutter, just outside the shell. Ponk.

Another hand on the exterior. This one was cold. “Don’t worry Sammie. We’ll get you out of here.”

A stirring in the Egg, and a sense of foreboding. If it was his own or the Egg’s - again, he just couldn’t say.

He fell into the red once more, and the agony was interminable - soon, the whole exchange was washed from his mind.

-

Night was well-advanced by the time they made landfall. Town looked wildly different from the last time Tommy had seen it; especially in the dim lighting, the large vines rising up around the path looked disturbingly vague. It was almost as if they were moving in the corner of his eye - but when he spun, when he looked at them directly, they froze. Or perhaps they’d just never moved at all; perhaps it was nothing more than the flickering torchlight.

Phil had gone quiet. Techno had a hand on his sword. Ranboo pulled a hoe from his pack and began cutting through the vines indiscriminately.

“I don’t know why people are so careful around these things,” he grunted as he worked. “They’re just vines.”

Phil watched him uneasily. “You don’t hear anything when you… interact with them?”

“Mm… not really. I’ve dealt with worse.” Another brutal swing, and Ranboo kicked the severed vine away from the path.

“Sam had bad experiences with them. And then when I touched one, almost right after we got here, it… it, uh, said some things to me. Some really vile shit.”

“Like what?” Techno asked quietly. He was watching the night around them, same as Tommy.

“Ah… well, just some stuff about Wilbur. Don’t really want to get into it, y’know, given our current situation and location.” Phil scratched the back of his neck, grimacing, as Techno glanced at him.

But in the midst of it all, hellish though the new landscape was, Tommy couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as they walked the Prime Path. The wood of the path was largely as they’d left it, as they’d first laid it. Back in days where the landscape had been crude and unfinished, where there’d been barely anybody around, just him and Tubbo, Wilbur and Dream, simpler days. The buildings that lined the path - well, they weren’t unfamiliar, but they were just of an era he held less fondness for.

For a second, armor he’d gotten from Sam felt almost like a suit, stiff in the shoulders, sized just a little too big - they’d never gotten that fixed, had they? Wil’d always said he’d ask Niki, but they’d never gotten around to it.

Where’d he left that suit? Had it been PogTopia? Cast off in the last remnants of the revolution? He couldn’t say.

The Prison rose ominously to their right as they walked, appearing and then receding in the distance as they wound their way around town. It was the first time he’d seen it since being imprisoned there. He vaguely remembered cracking jokes about it as it’d become a fixture in their skyline; it was almost disturbingly close to his home, he could see now. The thought that all that time in Pandora’s Vault, when it’d felt like he’d been dropped into Hell itself, the thought that all that time he’d been maybe a thirty minute’s walk from home - the thought seemed to rattle around in his chest. It hurt. It was uncomfortable.

“Town seems different without all the people in it,” Phil muttered, breaking the thick and oppressive silence they’d all settled into. Tommy latched onto the conversation, desperate to get out of his own head.

“You don’t even know the half of it. It’s even more odd to have seen this place go from just… just, well, _empty land_ , to all this junk, and then once everything’s built and the land’s all clogged up everybody just takes off again. And I wasn’t even around to see it all go to shit. Feel like the apocalypse happened while I was stuck in a bunker, or something similar.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can imagine.” Phil paused for a moment. “Guess I hadn’t thought about you being here before everything else.”

“Yup. Here before Wilbur, even.”

“You must miss it.”

“On some level, I guess. ’S more just spooky to be here now, though.” Tommy lost track of the conversation as his old house came into view.

Somebody had fixed it.

Last Tommy’d seen of the house, it had been converted to netherrack and fire. Now it was comprised of its original dirt once more; there were flowers planted out front. The others walked straight past it, intent on Church Prime just over the hill, but Tommy slowed and stopped outside its doors.

Phil glanced back. “Tommy?”

“Just a moment. You can, uh, go on without me - if you want. I just gotta check something.”

“No, we’ll wait,” Tommy heard Ranboo say, but he was already half-inside. The doors closed behind him.

This, too, had the feel of a place long-undisturbed, but the sensation had a different quality to it than that of the Community House. It felt - well, it _was_ coming home. It was night behind him, but if he closed his eyes it could’ve been daylight spilling over his shoulders, Wilbur and Tubbo squabbling outside. It felt sacred, here - more like holy ground than Church Prime had ever been to him. It felt like something to be preserved.

He ignored the sensation and went into the back, looking around carefully - then jammed his fingers into a crevice in the wall. The stone shifted, grating and squeaking loudly as it did so, before finally popping free and pulling away. He placed it aside.

There was a little chest he’d left. It was from ages ago - only half-remembered, really. A bolthole he’d left when he still believed in those, from when this place had still been a home and he’d still had things to protect, other than the disks.

There wasn’t much - a handful of diamonds, an enchantment book, the barest scrap of Netherite. He shoved it all aside - pocketed the diamonds but left the rest. However, at the bottom, there _was_ something useful.

There was an enchanted golden apple, gleaming a dull purple at him from the depths. He couldn’t really remember where he’d gotten it from.

You know, life in retrospect seems so simple and straightforward - memory seems so concrete. Then sometimes you get confronted with a detail, an _important_ detail, that you’ve somehow lost amongst the mess, confronted with the relativity of all perceived existence -

Tommy shrugged and pocketed the apple.

Stupid thoughts. Unproductive.

He headed back out the door.

He thought he saw a flash of green to his side as he left, buried in the shadows of the house - but when he glanced, squinting, torch brandished before him, there was nothing there.

-

Sam wasn’t conscious when the Egg’s shell was pierced, but the light and noise of it all brought him back to waking. Somebody was talking, tugging on his arms, wiping the hair away from his eyes.

He opened said eyes blearily. Everything was a hazy red, but there, an outline -

“Puffy?” He croaked.

The figure exhaled noisily in relief, and it _was_ Puffy. She tugged on him again, and got him propped up against the lip of the crack in the Egg.

“Hey pal,” she panted. “Glad to see you’re still conscious. Don’t look too good. Can you move for me?”

“I…” Sam blinked down. His own outline was fuzzy. He couldn’t feel his legs. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“That’s ok. We’re gonna be ok. Just let me,” she got an arm wrapped around him and tugged, and he spilled out of the Egg. Vines and pulp spilled out with him; Puffy groaned. “God that stinks. I’m going to have to burn this suit or something after all of this is done.”

“What?” Sam tried blinking again. It felt like his eyes just wouldn’t focus - he could only see in shades of red, and blurry shades at that. His body felt like it was communicating with him from the opposite end of a football field; signals from it were slow and faint. Like he had been disconnected from it, but not all the way.

“Oh Sam. You’re not lookin’ so good. We’re gonna get you out of here, ok, bud? We’ve got some friends waiting for you.”

“O - mm, ok.” He slumped against Puffy as she took a deep breath and slung his arm around her shoulder. He did his best to lean against her as he stood. Again, he couldn’t quite feel his legs - but he must’ve done something right, because they staggered forward together.

“What happened?” He asked, as she half-led half-dragged them across a vast, echoing cavern. The ground was uneven and varied in texture; he could feel the soft material of the vines underfoot, more strongly than he could sense anything else around them. He could make out the occasional snap and hiss of magma blocks as well.

“Oh. Well, a lot’s _happened_ \- do you mean since you fell in? Like, to you, or just generally? Well, I guess to _you_ makes the most sense… I don’t know how much you remember, or if you’re really thinking _logically_ at this point. What happened to _you_ is that Bad and Ant - and Pink, kinda, but he didn’t mean to - tricked you into falling into the Egg. And it’s been, uh, kinda - kinda eating you? Or something? _Maybe_ like digesting you? Or maybe some kind of metamorphosis - Bad was really unclear about the whole thing. But you’ve been inside it. And, uh, you don’t - don’t look quite the same as when you fell in. Look kinda awful, to be honest.”

“Yeah?” Sam sighed. They reached a set of stairs; Puffy leaned him against them and ran up to the top, peering around quietly. Apparently content with her observations, she ran back down and collected him once more.

“Yeah. But, uh, me ’n Ponk felt really bad about what was happening to you, so we went and got some help, and came up with a plan to bust you out. He wanted to be here, by the way - I told him I’d apologize to you for him. Or, well, that’s not _quite_ what he wanted me to say - but you know, it’s _Ponk_ , he’s never super straightforward about how he feels. So I’ll just tell you: he’s really sorry. He was kinda on the fence about all the Egg stuff, but he got really upset when they just threw you in and wouldn’t pull you back out, when it became obvious how rough it was for you. So he’s out with Bad and Ant right now, leading them away. _I_ was gonna do it, but they’re super suspicious of me right now. ‘Cause I was, uh, less than subtle about how unhappy I was.”

The stairs turned into hallways that seemed to go on forever. Sam was slipping.

  
“Sam? Sam! Hey! Hey, friend, I need you to hold on - hey, let’s just, let’s just sit down for a moment, alright? We, uh, don’t really have the time for it, but - but yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna, uh, hit a second wind I guess,” Sam opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d shut them. Puffy was hovering in front of him, hands wrapped around his arms and holding him upright. He could make out her face a little better now. She looked worried.

“Puffy,” he rasped.

“Yeah! Yeah that’s, uh, me! Good! Let’s keep that focus up and,” she tugged him to his feet once more. He sagged against her, so she had to brace against the wall - but they remained upright. “And let’s keep going. We don’t have a lot of time before they get back, I don’t think.”

“I’d go faster if I could,” he said, and Puffy huffed like she didn’t know whether to laugh or not. He didn’t know whether or not he was joking, either. Understanding himself was so far beyond what he could manage right now; he could barely understand what was going on.

More stairs, soon after that. So many more stairs. Sam clung to Puffy and clung to consciousness, and soon the world narrowed down to managing that.

-

True to word, the rest of the rescue group had stayed waiting outside Tommy's old house. They continued onward once he'd rejoined them.

Church Prime and the surrounding holy lands were untouched by the blight, as Sam had said. It painted a remarkable picture, were he in the mood to enjoy such a thing; vines crawled across the landscape all around, dripping from the taller buildings and fairly swarming the Path - but in the midst of it all, a square where they would not go, Church Prime a diminutive white and purple beacon standing defiantly against the dark.

He thought about the day where he and Dream had _built_ that church.

He carried onward.

It was a relief to finally step into the holy lands and be, well, as safe as one could be out here. He heard Ranboo sigh behind him, and Phil chuckle quietly. Techno muttered something. Tommy didn’t look back.

There was a figure standing - lounging, really - in the doorway of Church Prime. Blonde hair, full set of enchanted Netherite armor -

“Punz,” he said aloud in his surprise, in recognition.

“Hey Tommy. And company,” he added, nodding to the group behind him. “Puffy and Ponk asked me to hang out here, in case you guys didn’t make it in time. Y’know, ‘cause Puffy’s getting Sam, and Ponk can’t come into the holy lands, since he’s been infected by the Egg. Guess since you’re here I can leave now.”

He straightened and stretched, brushing by Tommy - but paused just before he did so. “Hey, by the way,” he muttered lowly. “I got your apology. And - I’m sorry too. I tried to help, but I wasn’t fast enough. Just… I dunno, thought you might wanted to know that.”

Tommy stared at him, and after a moment Punz shrugged and began walking away.

“Thank you,” Tommy called, just as Punz made it to the edge of the holy land. Phil and Techno walked past, into Church Prime. Ranboo remained outside with him.

The mercenary turned and offered him a flippant salute, before melting once more into the darkness, as if he’d never been there at all. 

But then something else caught Tommy's attention. On the hill just above where Punz had vanished, legs dangling over the edge of the Prime Path, was that - ? A familiar figure in green leathers, a pale mask gleaming in the moonlight.

Surely his mind was just playing tricks on him again. Like with the vines.

“What is it, Tommy?” A quiet voice asked from behind him. Tommy glanced back.

“Well it’s just, d’you - “ He cut himself off as he caught sight of Ranboo’s face.

Didn't Ranboo only have _one_ green eye?

“Nothing,” he said faintly, abruptly. “Nothing at all.”

-

It was nice, to feel the air on his face again. Puffy groaned as they emerged from the staircase and spilled onto soft grass.

“Thank _Prime_ ,” she said. “Let’s… never do that again. Ok. Uh, this way.”

They staggered forward once more. Wood underfoot now. Sam couldn’t see anything.

“Puffy, I don’t… why don’t you just kill me? I’m not… I don’t think I’m gonna make it. And I still got all my lives,” he said quietly, finally managing to voice a thought that had been formulating since he'd been freed from the Egg.

“ _No_. No way, no how. We’re getting you out of here, Sam. I’m not letting them just _kill_ you - particularly not after I put all this work into saving you.” She made a noise that could’ve been a laugh, under her heavy breathing. Sam examined his own breathing, and realized he was making a noise akin to a death rattle. He tried to regulate it and ended up lapsing into a coughing fit. Puffy paused for him again.

“Do you need - uh, do you need water? Yeah, I guess that makes sense - you didn’t have any in there…” She fumbled around her pack. Sam watched her blearily.

“Didn’t have any food, either. Ended up having to eat bits of myself.” He waved an arm at her to demonstrate, the bits where flesh had fallen off clear blotches even to his blurry vision. Puffy had frozen, and her face was pale.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” she said quietly.

Sam’s head tilted on his shoulders, sagging to the side. “Don’t think there was all that much holy about it,” he said, and it wasn’t - wasn’t quite him that said it. It was something else. It was him but something else.

“Right,” Puffy said, and finally produced what she was looking for. “Um. I got a flask of holy water - don’t know what it’ll do to you in your present state… I hope it doesn’t like, burn you or anything.”

“Maybe it’ll kill me,” Sam said, shrugging as he reached forward to take it. His hand missed. Puffy sighed and moved forward.

“Here, let me help. Just open your mouth.”

And Sam did, and Puffy gave him the holy water, and he didn’t die. He even felt a little better. He blinked at her.

“Puffy, I think there’s something inside my head. With me,” he said, and Puffy pursed her lips.

“Yeah, I’m getting that. We’re almost there.”

And they kept moving, as Sam tried to ignore the twisting, sinuous coils of thought inside his head. It was as if he’d cracked a door and let in the light - and he couldn’t really tell if he was grateful for having done so. Some monsters are better left in the dark.

They crested a hill.

-

Below, Tommy turned and went to join Phil and Techno inside Church Prime, thoroughly unnerved by the night - but before he could, he caught motion on the hill to his right. And it was real, this time - really real.

Two figures were moving slowly through the torchlight, one leaning heavily against the other, and his heart sank and soared all at the same time. It felt a little like how he’d imagine a heart attack.

It was Puffy and Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3/10/21 - ok. so it's been a little while.
> 
> i've been trying to write all of the rest of the story up, the parts that i have ideas for, so i can make sure that i get all my plotpoints finished out before i write myself into a corner. but that's a lot of writing. also, a lot of stuff has come up in my life recently - nothing awful, just Big. so i've been Busy.
> 
> but by God i am going to finish this fic lol.
> 
> a lot of stuff also happened lore-wise in the time between updates! tommy's dead and then not dead. sam was like at least partly responsible. that sucks. everybody's sad. none of it's gonna be affecting this fic - with the exception of that one ranboo stream where sam's computer died and ranboo had to push him to safety. i just found that really funny, as that's basically this scene, except with puffy and much angstier. yes.
> 
> also this chapter took so long to write because there was no recent map of the dreamsmp to work off of, so their sequence of walking through town was originally all wrong. i ended up watching a bunch of archived streams to try and build a mental map. and then, of course, once i finally get it figured out eret publishes an updated map of the dsmp the next day. today. fuck.
> 
> like thank you eret, bless you eret, but also fuckin hell lmao. what timing.
> 
> anyways, as always, hope you enjoy <3  
> i can't tell you when this fic will be done, but It Will Be Done.


End file.
